Skip to main content

Full text of "Traditions of Edinburgh"

See other formats 


J^i»8«H^SPS§ 


^is-ssi,^;;: 


JCtbrarg 
Ittterfittg  of  PtttBburgli 

Darlington  Memorial  Library 
aHa00^.K..a.Sl..O 


WILLIAM  &  MftRV    DARLINGTON 

MEMORIAL  LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OF  PITTSBURGH 


n 


/ . 


TRADITIONS  OF  EDINBURGH 


'.'WILLIAM  a  MARV   D?vRLlHC 
UNIVERSITY  6F  Fi  i 


TRADITIONS  OF  EDINBURGH 

BY 

ROBERT    CHAMBERS. 


NEW     EDITION. 


a-^^  -Ji^z^ix:^  J^n^ic^-,  ,x^^^'  iM>^/z/r, 

W&R.  CHAMBERS. 
LONDON   AND  EDINBURGH. 


^^^^'^r 

^c.'^ 


INTRODUCTORY   NOTICE. 


I  AM  about  to  do  what  very  few  could  do  without  emotion — • 
revise  a  book  which  I  wrote  forty-five  years  ago.  This  httle 
work  came  out  in  the  Augustan  days  of  Edinburgh,  when 
Jeffrey  and  Scott,  Wilson  and  the  Ettrick  Shepherd,  Dugald 
Stewart  and  Alison,  were  daily  giving  the  productions  of  their 
minds  to  the  public,  and  while  yet  Archibald  Constable  acted 
as  the  unquestioned  emperor  of  the  publishing  world.  I  was 
then  an  insignificant  person  of  the  age  of  twenty ;  yet,  destitute 
as  I  was  both  of  means  and  friends,  I  formed  the  hope  of 
writing  something  which  would  attract  attention.  The  subject 
I  proposed  was  one  lying  readily  at  hand,  the  romantic  things 
connected  with  Old  Edinburgh.  If,  I  calculated,  a  first  _parf  or 
member  could  be  issued,  materials  for  others  might  be  expected 
to  come  in,  for  scores  of  old  inhabitants,  even  up  perhaps  to 
the  very  '  oldest,'  would  then  contribute  their  reminiscences. 

The  plan  met  with  success.  Materials  almost  unbounded 
came  to  me,  chiefly  from  aged  professional  and  mercantile 
gentlemen,  who,  usually,  at  my  first  introduction  to  them, 
started  at  my  youthful  appearance,  having  formed  the  notion 
that  none  but  an  old  person  would  have  thought  of  writing  such 
a  book.  A  friend  gave  me  a  letter  to  Mr  Charles  Kirkpatrick 
Sharpe,  who,  I  was  told,  knew  the  scandal  of  the  time  of 
Charles  II.  as  well  as  he  did  the  merest  gossip  of  the  day, 
and  had  much  to  say  regarding  the  good  society  of  a  hundred 
years  ago. 


VI 


INTRODUCTORY  NOTICE. 


Looking  back  from  the  year  1868,  I  feel  that  C.  K.  S.  has 
himself  become,  as  it  were,  a  tradition  of  Edinburgh.  His  thin 
effeminate  figure,  his  voice  pitched  i7i  alt. — his  attire,  as  he  took 
his  daily  walks  on  Princes  Street,  a  long  blue  frock-coat,  black, 
trousers,  rather  wide  below,  and  sweeping  over  white  stockings 
and  neat  shoes — something  like  a  web  of  white  cambric  round 
his  neck,  and  a  brown  wig  coming  down  to  his  eyebrows — had 
long  established  him  as  what  is  called  a  character.  He  had 
recently  edited  a  book  containing  many  stories  of  diablerie,  and 
another  in  which  the  original  narrative  of  ultra-presbyterian 
church  history  had  to  bear  a  series  of  cavalier  notes  of  the  most 
mocking  character.  He  had  a  quaint  biting  wit,  which  people 
bore  as  they  would  a  scratch  from  a  provoked  cat.  Essentially, 
he  was  good-natured,  and  fond  of  merriment.  He  had  con- 
siderable gifts  of  drawing,  and  one  caricature  portrait  by  him,  of 
Queen  Elizabeth  dancing,  'high  and  disposedly,'  before  the 
Scotch  ambassadors,  is  the  delight  of  everybody  who  has  seen 
it.  In  jest  upon  his  own  peculiarity  of  voice,  he  formed  an 
address-card  for  himself  consisting  simply  of  the  following 
anagram  f 


quasi  dicitur  C  sharp.  He  was  intensely  aristocratic,  and  cared 
nothing  for  the  interests  of  the  great  multitude.  He  complained 
that  one  never  heard  of  any  gentlefolks  committing  crimes  now 
a  days,  as  if  that  were  a  disadvantage  to  them  or  the  public. 
Any  case  of  a  Lady  Jane  stabbing  a  perjured  lover  would  have 
delighted  him.      While   the   child   of  whim,    Mr  Sharpe  was 


INTRODUCTORY  NOTICE.  VU 

generally  believed  to  possess  respectable  talents  by  which,  with 
a  need  for  exerting  them,  he  might  have  achieved  distinction. 
His  ballad  of  the  *  Murder  of  Caerlaverock,'  in  the  Minstrelsy, 
is  a  masterly  production ;  and  the  concluding  verses  haunt  one 
like  a  beautiful  strain  of  music  : 

'  To  sweet  Lincluden's  haly  cells 
Fu'  dowie  I  'II  repair  ; 
There  Peace  wd'  gentle  Patience  dwells, 
Nae  deadly  feuds  are  there. 

In  tears  I  '11  wither  ilka  charm, 

Like  draps  o'  balefu'  yew  ; 
And  wail  the  beauty  that  cou'd  harm 

A  knight,  sae  brave  and  true.' 

After  what  I  had  heard  and  read  of  Charles  Sharpe,  I  called 
upon  him  at  his  motlier's  house,  No.  93  Princes  Street,  in  a 
somewhat  excited  frame  of  mind.  His  servant  conducted  me 
to  the  first  floor,  and  shewed  me  into  what  is  generally  called 
amongst  us  the  back  drawing-room,  which  I  found  carpeted 
with  green  cloth,  and  full  of  old  family  portraits,  some  on  the 
walls,  but  many  more  on  the  floor.  A  small  room  leading  off 
this  one  behind,  was  the  place  where  Mr  Sharpe  gave  audience. 
Its  diminutive  space  was  stuffed  fiill  of  old  curiosities,  cases 
with  family  bijouterie,  &c.  One  petty  object  was  strongly 
indicative  of  the  man — a  calling-card  of  Lady  Charlotte 
Campbell,  the  once  adored  beauty,  stuck  into  the  frame  of 
a  picture.  He  must  have  kept  it  at  that  time  about  thirty  years. 
On  appearing,  Mr  Sharpe  received  me  very  cordially,  telling  me 
he  had  seen  and  been  pleased  with  my  first  two  numbers. 
Indeed,  he  and  Sir  Walter  Scott  had  talked  together  of  writing 
a  book  of  the  same  kind  in  company,  and  calling  it  Reekiana, 
which  plan,  however,  being  anticipated  by  me,  the  only  thing 
that  remained  for  him  was  to  cast  any  little  matters  of  the  kind 
he  possessed  into  my  care.  I  expressed  myself  duly  grateful, 
and  took  my  leave.  The  consequence  was,  the  appearance  of 
notices  regarding  the  eccentric  Lady  Anne  Dick,  the  beautiful 
Susanna^  Countess  of  Eglintoune,  the  Lord  Justice-clerk  Alva, 


Vlll  .  INTRODUCTORY  NOTICE. 

and  the  Duchess  of  Queensbeny  (the  '  Kitty '  of  Prior),  before 
the  close  of  my  first  volume.  Mr  Sharpe's  contributions  were 
all  of  them  given  in  brief  notes,  and  had  to  be  written  out  on 
an  enlarged  scale,  with  what  I  thought  a  regard  to  literary  effect 
as  far  as  the  telling  was  concerned. 

By  an  introduction  from  Dr  Chalmers,  I  visited  a  living  lady 
who  might  be  considered  as  belonging  to  the  generation  at  the 
beginning  of  the  reign  of  George  III.  Her  husband,  Alexander 
Murray,  had,  I  believe,  been  Lord  North's  solicitor-general  for 
Scotland.  She  herself,  born  before  the  Porteous  Riot,  and  well  ■ 
remembering  the  Forty-five,  was  now  within  a  very  brief  space 
of  the  age  of  a  hundred.  Although  she  had  not  married  in  her 
earlier  years,  her  children,  Mr  Murray  of  Henderland  and  others, 
were  all  elderly  people.  I  found  the  venerable  lady  seated  at  a 
window  in  her  drawing-room  in  George  Street,  with  her  daughter, 
Miss  Murray,  taking  the  care  of  her  which  her  extreme  age 
required,  and  with  some  help  from  this  lady,  we  had  a  conver- 
sation of  about  an  hour.  She  spoke  with  due  reverence  of  her 
mother's  brother,  the  Lord  Chief-justice  Mansfield,  and  when  I 
adverted  to  the  long  pamphlet  against  him  Avritten  by  Mr 
Andrew  Stuart  at  the  conclusion  of  the  Douglas  Cause,  she 
said  that,  to  her  knowledge,  he  had  never  read  it,  such  being  his 
practice  in  respect  of  all  attacks  made  upon  him,  lest  they  should 
disturb  his  equanimity  in  judgment.  As  the  old  lady  was  on 
intimate  terms  with  Boswell,  and  had  seen  Johnson  on  his  visit 
to  Edinburgh — as  she  was  the  sister-in-law  of  Allan  Ramsay  the 
painter,  and  had  lived  in  the  most  cultivated  society  of  Scotland 
all  her  long  life — there  were  ample  materials  for  conversation 
with  her ;  but  her  small  strength  made  this  shorter  and  slower 
than  I  could  have  wished.  When  we  came  upon  the  poet 
Ramsay,  she  seemed  to  have  caught  new  vigour  from  the 
subject :  she  spoke  with  animation  of  the  child-parties  she  had 
attended  in  his  house  on  the  Castle-hill  during  a  course  of  ten 
years  before  his  death — an  event  which  happened  in  1757.  He 
was  '  charming,'  she  said ;  he  entered  so  heartily  into  the  plays 
of  children.     He,  in  particular,  gained  their  hearts  by  making 


INTRODUCTORY  NOTICE.  IX 

houses  for  their  dolls.  How  pleasant  it  was  to  learn  that  our 
great  pastoral  poet  was  a  man  who,  in  his  private  capacity,  loved 
to  sweeten  the  daily  life  of  his  fellow-creatures,  and  particularly 
of  the  young !  At  a  warning  from  Miss  Murray,  I  had  to  tear 
myself  away  from  this  delightful  and  never-to-be-forgotten 
interview. 

I  had,  one  or  two  years  before,  when  not  out  of  my  teens^ 
attracted  some  attention  from  Sir  Walter  Scott,  by  writing  for 
him  and  presenting  (through  Mr  Constable)  a  transcript  of  the 
songs  of  the  Lady  of  the  Lake,  in  a  style  of  peculiar  caligraph'y, 
whieh  I  practised  for  want  of  any  better  way  of  attracting 
the  notice  of  people  superior  to  myself  When  George  IV. 
some  months  afterwards  came  to  Edinburgh,  good  Sir  Walter 
remembered  me,  and  procured  for  me  the  business  of  -writing 
the  address  of  the  Royal  Society  of  Edinburgh  to  his  Majesty, 
for  which  I  was  handsomely  paid.  Several  other  learned  bodies 
followed  the  example,  for  Sir  Walter  Scott  was  the  arbiter  of 
everything  during  that  frantic  time,  and  thus  I  was  substantially 
benefited  by  his  means. 

According  to  what  Mr  Constable  told  me,  the  great  man 
liked  me,  in  part  because  he  understood  I  was  from  Tweedside. 
On  seeing  the  earlier  numbers  of  the  Traditions,  he  expressed 
astonishment  as  to  'where  the  boy  got  all  the  information.' 
But  I  did  not  see  or  hear  from  him  till  the  first  volume  had 
been  completed.  He  then  called  upon  me  one  day,  along  with 
Mr  Lockhart.  I  was  overwhelmed  with  the  honour,  for  Sir 
Walter  Scott  was  almost  an  object  of  worship  to  me.  I  literally 
could  not  utter  a  word.  While  I  stood  silent,  I  heard  him 
tell  his  companion  that  Charles  Sharpe  was  a  writer  in  the 
Traditiojis,  and  taking  up  the  volume,  he  read  aloud  what  he 
called  one  of  his  quaint  bits.  '  The  ninth  Earl  of  Eglintoune 
was  one  of  those  patriarchal  peers  who  live  to  an  advanced 
age — indefatigable  in  the  frequency  of  their  marriages  and  the 
number  of  their  children — who  linger  on  and  on,  with  an  unfail- 
ing succession  of  young  countesses,  and  die  at  last  leaving  a 
progeny  interspersed  throughout  the  whole  of  Douglas's  Peerage, 


X  INTRODUCTORY   NOTICE. 

two  volumes,  folio,  re-edited  by  Wood.'  And  then  both  gentle- 
men went  on  laughing  for  perhaps  two  minutes,  with  interjec- 
tions :  '  How  like  Charlie  ! ' — '  What  a  strange  being  he  is  ! ' — 
*  Two  volumes,  folio,  re-edited  by  Wood — ha,  ha,  ha  !  There  you 
have  him  past  all  doubt;'  and  so  on.  I  was  too  much  abashed 
to  tell  Sir  Walter  that  it  was  only  an  impudent  little  bit  of  writing 
of  my  own,  part  of  the  solution  into  which  I  had  diffused  the 
actual  notes  of  Sharpe.  But,  having  occasion  to  write  next 
day  to  Mr  Lockhart,  I  mentioned  Sir  Walter's  mistake,  and  he 
was  soon  after  good  enough  to  inform  me  that  he  had  set  his 
friend  right  as  to  the  authorship,  and  they  had  had  a  'second 
hearty  laugh  on  the  subject. 

A  very  few  days  after  this  visit,  Sir  Walter  sent  me,  along 
with  a  kind  letter,  a  packet  of  manuscript,  consisting  of  sixteen 
folio  pages,  in  his  usual  close  handwriting,  and  containing  all 
the  reminiscences  he  could  at  the  time  summon  up  of  old 
persons  and  things  in  Edinburgh.  Such  a  treasure  to  me ! 
And  such  a  gift  from  the  greatest  literary  man  of  the  age  to  the 
humblest !  Is  there  a  literary  man  of  the  present  age  who 
would  scribble  as  much  for  any  humble  aspirant  ?  Nor  was  this 
the  only  act  of  liberality  of  Scott  to  me.  When  I  was  preparing 
a  subsequent  work.  The  Popular  Rhymes  of  Scotland,  he  sent  me 
whole  sheets  of  his  recollections,  with  appropriate  explanations. 
For  years  thereafter,  he  allowed  me  to  join  him  in  his  walks 
home  from  the  Parliament  House,  in  the  course  of  which  he 
freely  poured  into  my  greedy  ears  anything  he  knew  regarding 
the  subjects  of  my  studies.  His  kindness  and  good-humour  on 
these  occasions  were  untiring.  I  have  since  found,  from  his 
journal,  that  I  had  met  him  on  certain  days  when  his  heart  was 
overladen  with  woe.  Yet  his  welcome  to  me  was  the  same. 
After  1826,  however,  L  saw  him  much  less  frequently  than 
before,  for  I  knew  he  grudged  every  moment  not  spent  in 
thinking  and  working  on  the  fatal  tasks  he  had  assigned  to 
himself  for  the  redemption  of  his  debts. 

All  through  the  preparation  of  this  book,  I  was  indebted  a  good 
deal  to  a  gentleman  who  was  neither  a  literary  man  nor  an  artist 


INTRODUCTORY  NOTICE.  XI 

himself,  but  hovered  round  the  outskirts  of  both  professions,  and 
might  be  considered  as  a  useful  adjunct  to  both.  Every  votary 
of  pen  or  pencil  amongst  us  knew  David  Bridges  at  his  draper}' 
establishment  in  the  Lawnmarket,  and  many  had  been  in- 
debted to  his  obliging  disposition.  A  quick,  dark-eyed  little 
man,  -with  lips  full  of  sensibility  and  a  tongue  unloving  of  rest, 
such  a  man  in  a  degree  as  one  can  suppose  Garrick  to  have 
been,  he  held  a  sort  of  court  every  day,  where  wits  and  painters 
jostled  with  people  wanting  coats,  jerkins,  and  spotted  hand- 
kerchiefs. The  place  was  small,  and  had  no  saloon  behind; 
so,  whenever  David  had  got  some  '  bit '  to  shew  you,  he  dragged 
you  down  a  dark  stair  to  a  packing-place,  lighted  only  by  a 
grate  from  the  street,  and  there,  amidst  plaster-casts  numberless, 
would  fix  you  with  his  glittering  eye,  till  he  had  convinced  you  of 
the  fine  handling,  the  '  buttery  touches '  (a  great  phrase  with  him), 
the  admirable  '  scummling '  (another),  and  so  forth.  It  was  in 
the  days  prior  to  the  Royal  Scottish  Academy  and  its  exhibitions ; 
and  it  was  left  in  a  great  measure  to  David  Bridges  to  bring 
fonvard  aspirants  in  art.  Did  such  a  person  long  for  notice, 
he  had  only  to  give  David  one  of  his  best  '  bits,'  and  in  a  short 
time  he  would  find  himself  chattered  into  fame  in  that  profound, 
the  grate  of  which  I  never  can  pass  without  recalling  something 
of  the  buttery  touches  of  those  old  days.  The  Blackwood  wits, 
who  laughed  at  everything,  fixed  upon  our  friend  the  title  of 
'Director-general  of  the  Fine  Arts,'  which  was,  however,  too 
much  of  a  truth  to  be  a  jest.  To  this  extraordinary  being  I 
had  been  introduced  somehow,  and,  entering  heartily  into  my 
views,  he  brought  me  information,  brought  me  friends,  read  and 
criticised  my  proofs,  and  would,  I  dare  say,  have  written  the 
book  itself  if  I  had  so  desired.  It  is  impossible  to  think  of 
him  without  a  smile,  but  at  the  same  time  a  certain  melancholy, 
for  his  life  was  one  which,  I  fear^  proved  a  poor  one  for 
himself. 

Before  the  Traditions  were  finished,  I  had  become  favourably 
acquainted  with  many  gentlemen  of  letters  and  others,  who  were 
pleased  to   think  that   Old   Edinburgh  had  been   chronicled. 


XU  INTRODUCTORY   NOTICE. 

Wilson  gave  me  a  laudatory  sentence  in  the  Nodes  Amirosianos. 
The  Bard  of  Ettrick,  viewing  my  boyish  years,  always  spoke  of 
and  to  me  as  an  unaccountable  sort  of  person,  but  never  could 
be  induced  to  believe  otherwise  than  that  I  had  written  all  my 
traditions  from  my  own  head.  I  had  also  the  pleasure  of 
enjoying  some  intercourse  with  the  venerable  Henry  Mackenzie, 
who  had  been  bom  in  1745,  but  always  seemed  to  feel  as  if  the 
Man  of  Feeling  \i2A  been  written  only  one  instead  of  sixty  years 
ago,  and  as  if  there  was  nothing  particular  in  antique  occur- 
rences. The  whole  affair  was  pretty  much  of  a  triumph  at  the 
time.  Now,  when  I  am  giving  it  a  final  revision,  I  reflect  with 
touched  feelings,  that  all  the  brilliant  men  of  the  time  when  it 
was  written  are,  without  an  exception,  passed  away,  while,  for 
myself,  I  am  forced  to  claim  the  benefit  of  Horace's  humanity  : 

'  Solve  senescentem  mature  sanus  equum,  ne 
Peccet  ad  extremum  ridendus,  et  ilia  ducat.' 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

The  Changes  of  the  last  Hundred  Years .....". ii 

The  Castle-hill 21 

Hugo  Amot — Allan  Ramsay — House  of  the  Gordon  Family — Sir 
David  Baird — Dr  Webster — House  of  Mary  de  Guise. 

The  West  Bow 36 

The  Bowhead  —  Weigh -house  —  Anderson's  Pills  —  Oratories — 
Colonel  Gardiner — '  Bowhead  Saints ' — '  The  Seizers ' — Story  of 
a  Jacobite  Canary — Major  Weir — Tulzies — The  Tinklarian 
Doctor — Old  Assembly  Room — Paul  Romieu — '  He  that  Tholes 
Overcomes' — Provost  Stewart — Donaldsons  the  Booksellers — 
Bowfoot — The  Templars'  Lands — The  Gallows  Stone. 

James's  Court 68 

David  Hume — James  Boswell — Lord  Fountainhall. 

Story  of  the  Countess  of  Stair 76 

The  Old  Bank  Close 82 

The  Regent  Morton— The  Old  Bank— Sir  Thomas  Hope— Chiesly 
of  Dairy — Rich  Merchants  of  the  Sixteenth  Century — Sir 
William  Dick — The  Birth  of  Lord  Brougham. 

The  Old  Tolbooth 95 


XIV  '  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

Some  Memories  of  the  Luckenbooths 109 

Lord  Coalstoun  and  his  Wig — Commendator'  Bothwell's  House 
— Lady  Anne  Bothwell — Mahogany  Lands  and  Fore-stairs — 
The  Krames — Creech's  Shop. 

Some  Memoranda  of  the  Old  Kirk  of  St  Giles 118 

The  Parliament  Close 121 

Ancient  Churchyard — Booths  attached  to  the  High  Church — Gold- 
smiths— George  Heriot — The  Deid-chack. 

^    Memorials  of  the  Nor'  Loch 129 

The  Parliament  House 131 

Old  Arrangements  of  the  House — Justice  in  Bygone  Times — Court 
of  Session  Garland — Parliament  House  Worthies. 

convivialia 152 

Taverns  of  Old  Times 174 

The  Cross — Caddies 191 

The  Town-guard 196 

Edinburgh  Mobs 200 

The  Blue  Blanket — Mobs  of  the  Seventeenth  Century — Bowed 
Joseph. 

Bickers 207 

Susanna,  Countess  of  Eglintoune 210 

Female  Dresses  of  Last  Century. .' 218 

The  Lord  Justice-Clerk  Alva 223 

Ladies  Sutherland  and  Glenorchy — The  Pin  or  Risp. 

Marlin's  and  Niddry's  Wynds 228 

Tradition  of  Marlin  the  Pavier — House  of  Provost  Edward — Story 
of  Lady  Grange. 


CONTENTS.  XV 

PAGE 

Abbot  of  Melrose's  Lodging 244 

Sir  George  Mackenzie — Lady  Anne  Dick. 

Blackfriars  Wynd 249 

Palace  of  Archbishop  Bethune — Boarding-schools  of  the  Last 
Century — The  Last  of  the  Lorimers — Lady  Lovat, 

The  Cowgate 262 

House  of  Gavin  Douglas  the  Poet  —  Skirmish  of  Cleanse-the- 
Causeway — College  Wynd — Birthplace  of  Sir  Walter  Scott — 
The  Horse  Wynd — Tarn  o'  the  Cowgate — Magdalen  Chapel. 

St  Cecilia's  Hall 272 

The  Murder  of  Darnley 280 

Mint  Close 282 

The  Mint — Robert  Cullen — Lord  Chancellor  Loughborough. 

Miss  Nicky  Murray 288 

The  Bishop's  Land 291 

John  Knox's  Manse 293 

Hyndford's  Close 297 

House     of    the    Marquises    of    Tweeddale  —  The    Begbie 
Tragedy 301 

The  Ladies  of  Traquair 308 

Greyfriars  Churchyard 310 

Signing  of  the  Covenant — Henderson's  Monument — BothweU 
Bridge  Prisoners — A  Romance. 

Story  of  Mrs  Macfarlane 313 

The  Canongate 316 

Distinguished  Inhabitants  in  Former  Times — Story  of  a  Burning — 
Morocco's  Land — New  Street. 


XVI  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

St  John  Street 322 

Lord  Monboddo's  Suppers — The  Sister  of  Smollett — Anecdote  of 
Henry  Dundas. 

Moray  House 326 

The  Speaking  House 332 

Panmure  House— Adam  Smith 337 

John  Paterson  the. Golfer , ;.. 339 

Lothian  Hut 34^ 

Henry  Prentice  and  Potatoes 343 

The  Duchess  of  Buccleuch  and  Monmouth 345 

Claudero 348 

Queensberry  House 353 

Tennis  Court 362 

Early  Theatricals — The   Canongate   Theatre — Digges    and    Mrs 
Bellamy — A  Theatrical  Riot. 

Marionville — Story  of  Captain  Macrae 368 

Alison  Square 376 

Leith  Walk 378 

Gabriel's  Road 384 


INDEX 387 


TRADITIONS    OF   EDINBURCxH; 


THE  CHANGES  OF  THE  LAST  HUNDRED  YEARS. 

EDINBURGH  was,  at  the  beginning  of  George  III.'s 
reign,  a  picturesque,  odorous,  inconvenient,  old-fashioned 
town,  of  about  seventy  thousand  inhabitants.  It  had  no 
court,  no  factories,  no  commerce;  but  there  was  a  nest  of 
lawyers  in  it,  attending  upon  the  Court  of  Session ;  and  a  con- 
siderable number  of  the  Scotch  gentry — one  of  whom  then  passed 
as  rich  with  a  thousand  a  year — gave  it  the  benefit  of  their 
presence  during  the  winter.  Thus  the  town  had  lived  for  some 
ages,  during  which  political  discontent  and  division  had  kept  the 
country  poor.  A  stranger  approaching  the  city,  seeing  it  piled 
'close  and  massy,  deep  and  high' — a  series  of  towers,  rising  from  a 
palace  on  the  plain  to  a  castle  in  the  air — ^would  have  thought  it  a 
truly  romantic  place ;  and  the  impression  would  not  have  subsided 
much  on  a  near  inspection,  when  he  would  have  found  himself 
admitted  by  a  fortified  gate  through  an  ancient  wall,  still  kept  in 
repair.     Even  on  entering  the  one  old  street  of  which  the  city 

*  The  framework  of  the  Traditions  was  largely  improved  in  an  edition 
of  1846,  which  is  here  reprinted,  with  little  alteration,  but  with  a  few 
additional  paragraphs  given  in  brackets. 

B 


12  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

chiefly  consisted,  he  would  have  seen  much  to  admire — houses 
of  substantial  architecture  and  lofty  proportions,  mingled  with 
more  lowly,  but  also  more  arresting  wooden  fabrics ;  a  huge  and 
irregular,  but  venerable  Gothic  church,  surmounted  by  an  aerial 
crown  of  masonry ;  finally,  an  esplanade  towards  the  castle,  from 
which  he  could  have  looked  abroad  upon  half  a  score  of 
counties,  upon  firth  and  fell,  yea,  even  to  the  blue  Grampians. 
Everywhere  he  would  have  seen  symptoms  of  denseness  of 
population ;  the  open  street  a  universal  market ;  a  pell-mell  of 
people  everywhere.  The  eye  would  have  been,  upon  the  whole, 
gratified,  whatever  might  be  the  effect  of  the  clangor  strepitusque 
upon  the  ear,  or  whatever  might  have  been  the  private  medita- 
tions of  the  nose.  It  would  have  only  been  on  coming  to 
close  quarters,  or  to  quarters  at  all,  that  our  stranger  would  have 
begun  to  think  of  serious  drawbacks  from  the  first  impression, 
For  an  inn,  he  would  have  had  the  White  Horse,  in  a  close  in 
the  Canongate ;  or  the  White  Hart,  a  house  which  now  appears 
like  a  carrier's  inn,  in  the  Grassmarket.  Or,  had  he  betaken 
himself  to  a  private  lodging,  which  he  would  have  probably  done 
under  the  conduct  of  a  ragged  varlet,  speaking  more  of  his 
native  Gaelic  than  English,  he  would  have  had  to  ascend  four 
or  five  stories  of  a  common  stair,  into  the  narrow  chambers  of 
some  Mrs  Balgray  or  Luckie  Fergusson,  where  a  closet  bed  in 
the  sitting-room  would  have  been  displayed  as  the  most  comfort- 
able place  in  the  world ;  and  he  would  have  had,  for  amuse- 
ment, a  choice  between  an  extensive  view  of  house-tops  from 
the  window,  and  the  study  of  a  series  of  prints  of  the  four 
seasons,  a  sampler,  and  a  portrait  of  the  Marquis  of  Granby, 
upon  the  wall. 

On  being  introduced  into  society,  our  stranger  might  have 
discovered  cause  for  content  with  his  lodging,  on  finding  how 
poorly  off  were  the  first  people  with  respect  to  domestic  accom- 
modations. I  can  imagine  him  going  to  tea  at  Mr  Bruce  of 
Kennet's,  in  Forrester's  Wynd — a  country  gentleman  and  a 
lawyer  (not  long  after  raised  to  the  bench),  yet  happy  to  live 
with  his  wife  and  children  in  a  house  of  fifteen  pounds  of  rent, 


THE   CHANGES    OF   THE   LAST   HUNDRED   YEARS.  I3 

in  a  region  of  profound  darkness  and  mystery,  now  no  more. 
Had  he  got  into  familiar  terms  with  the  worthy  lady  of  the 
mansion,  he  might  have  ascertained  that  they  had  just  three 
rooms  and  a  kitchen ;  one  room,  '  my  lady's ' — that  is,  the  kind 
of  parlour  he  was  sitting  in ;  another,  a  consulting-room  for  the 
gentleman;  the  third,  a  bedroom.  The  children,  with  their 
maid,  had  beds  laid  down  for  them  at  night  in  their  father's 
room ;  the  housemaid  slept  under  the  kitchen  dresser ;  and  the 
one  man-servant  was  turned  at  night  out  of  the  house.  Had 
our  friend  chanced  to  get  amongst  trades-people,  he  might  have 
found  Mr  Kerr,  the  eminent  goldsmith  in  the  Parliament  Square, 
stowing  his  menage  into  a  couple  of  small  rooms  above  his  booth- 
like shop,  plastered  against  the  wall  of  St  Giles's  Church ;  the 
nursery  and  kitchen,  however,  being  placed  in  a  cellar  under  the 
level  of  the  street,  where  the  children  are  said  to  have  rotted  off 
like  sheep. 

But  indeed  everything  was  on  a  homely  and  narrow  scale. 
The  College — ^where  Munro,  CuUen,  and  Black  were  already 
making  themselves  great  names — was  to  be  approached  through 
a  mean  alley,  the  College  Wynd.  The  churches  were  chiefly 
clustered  under  one  roof;  the  jail  was  a  narrow  building,  half- 
filling  up  the  breadth  of  the  street ;  the  public  offices,  for  the 
most  part,  obscure  places  in  lanes  or  dark  entries.  The  men  of 
learning  and  wit,  united  with  a  proportion  of  men  of  rank,  met 
as  the  Poker  Club  in  a  tavern,  the  best  of  its  day,  but  only  a 
dark  house  in  a  close,  to  which  our  stranger  could  have  scarcely 
made  his  way  without  a  guide.  In  a  similar  situation  across  the 
way,  he  would  have  found,  at  the  proper  season,  the  Assembly; 
that  is,  a  congregation  of  ladies  met  for  dancing,  and  whom  the 
gentlemen  usually  joined  rather  late,  and  rather  merry.  The 
only  theatre  was  also  a  poor  and  obscure  place  in  some  inde- 
scribable part  of  the  Canongate. 

The  town  was,  nevertheless,  a  funny,  familiar,  compact,  and  not 
unlikable  place.  Gentle  and  semple  living  within  the  compass 
of  a  single  close,  or  even  a  single  stair,  knew  and  took  an  interest 
in   each   other.      Acquaintances  might  not   only  be   formed, 


14  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

Pyramus-and-Thisbe  fashion,  through  party-walls,  but  from  win- 
dow to  window  across  alleys,  narrow  enough  in  many  cases  to 
allow  of  hand  coming  to  hand,  and  even  lip  to  lip.  There  was 
little  elegance,  but  a  vast  amount  of  cheap  sociality.  Provokingly 
comical  clubs,  founded  each  upon  one  joke,  were  abundant.  The 
ladies  had  tea-drinkings  at  the  primitive  hour  of  six,  from  which 
they  cruised  home  under  the  care  of  a  lantern-bearing,  patten-shod 
lass ;  or  perhaps,  if  a  bad  night,  in  Saunders  Macalpine's  sedan- 
chair.  Every  forenoon,  for  several  hours,  the  only  clear  space 
which  the  town  presented — that  around  the  Cross — was  crowded 
with  loungers  of  all  ranks,  whom  it  had  been  an  amusement  to 
the  poet  Gay  to  survey  from  the  neighbouring  windows  of  Allan 
Ramsay's  shop.  The  jostle  and  huddlement  was  extreme  every- 
where. Gentlemen  and  ladies  paraded  along  in  the  stately  attire 
of  the  period ;  tradesmen  chatted  in  groups,  often  bare-headed, 
at  their  shop-doors ;  caddies  whisked  about,  bearing  messages, 
or  attending  to  the  affairs  of  strangers ;  children  filled  the  kennel 
with  their  noisy  sports.  Add  to  all  this,  corduroyed  men  from 
Gilmerton,  bawling  coals  or  yellow  sand,  and  spending  as  much 
breath  in  a  minute  as  could  have  served  poor  asthmatic  Hugo 
Amot  for  a  'month ;  fishwomen  crying  their  caller  haddies  from 
Newhaven  j  whimsicals  and  idiots  going  along,  each  with  his  or 
her  crowd  of  listeners  or  tormentors  ;  sootymen  with  their  bags  ; 
to^vn-guardsmen  with  their  antique  Lochaber  axes ;  water-carriers 
with  their  dripping  barrels;  barbers  with  their  hair-dressing 
materials;  and  so  forth — and  our  stranger  would  have  been 
disposed  to  acknowledge  that,  though  a  coarse  and  confused,  it 
was  a  perfectly  unique  scene,  and  one  which,  once  contemplated, 
was  not  easily  to  be  forgotten. 

A  change  at  length  began.  Our  northern  country  had  settled 
to  sober  courses  in  the  reign  of  George  II.,  and  the  usual  results 
of  industry  were  soon  apparent.  Edinburgh  by  and  by  felt 
much  like  a  lady  who,  after  long  being  content  with  a  small  and 
inconvenient  house,  is  taught,  by  the  money  in  her  husband's 
pockets,  that  such  a  place  is  no  longer  to  be  put  up  with. 
There  was  a  wish  to  expatiate  over  some  of  the  neighbouring 


THE   CHANGES   OF   THE   LAST   HUNDRED   YEARS.  1 5 

grounds,  so  as  to  get  more  space  and  freer  air;  only  it  was 
difficult  to  do,  considering  the  physical  circumstances  of  the 
town,  and  the  character  of  the  existing  outlets.  Space,  space  ! 
— air,  air  !  was,  however,  a  strong  and  a  general  cry,  and  the  old 
romantic  city  did  at  length  burst  from  its  bounds,  though  not  in 
a  very  regular  way,  or  for  a  time  to  much  good  purpose. 

A  project  for  a  new  street  on  the  site  of  Halkerston's  Wynd, 
leading  by  a  bridge  to  the  grounds  of  Mutrie's  Hill,  where  a 
suburb  might  be  erected,  was  formed  before  the  end  of  the 
seventeenth  century.*  It  was  a  subject  of  speculation  to  John, 
Earl  of  Mar,  during  his  years  of  exile,  as  were  many  other 
schemes  of  national  improvement  which  have  since  been  real- 
ised— for  example,  the  Forth  and  Clyde  Canal.  The  grounds 
to  the  north  lay  so  invitingly  open,  that  the  early  formation  of 
such  a  project  is  not  wonderful.  Want  of  spirit  and  of  means 
alone  could  delay  its  execution.  After  the  Rebellion  of  1745, 
when  a  general  spirit  of  improvement  began  to  be  she^vn  in 
Scotland,  the  scheme  was  taken  up  by  a  public-spirited  provost, 
Mr  George  Drummond,  but  it  had  to  struggle  for  years  with 
local  difficulties.  Meanwhile,  a  sagacious  builder,  by  name 
James  Brown,  resolved  to  take  advantage  of  the  growing  taste : 
he  purchased  a  field  near  the  town  for  ;^i2oo,  and  7^7/^^  it  out 
for  a  square.  The  speculation  is  said  to  have  ended  in  some- 
thing like  giving  him  his  own  money  as  an  annual  return.  This 
place  (George  Square)  became  the  residence  of  several  of  the 
judges  and  gentry.  I  was  amused  a  few  years  ago  hearing  an 
old  gentleman  in  the  country  begin  a  story  thus  :  '  When  I  was 
in  Edinburgh,  in  the  year  '67,  I  went  to  George  Square,  to  call 
for  Mrs  Scott  of  Sinton,'  &c.  To  this  day,  some  relics  of  gentry 
cling  to  its  grass-green  causeways,  charmed,  perhaps,  by  its 
propinquity  to  the  Meadows  and  Bruntsfield  Links.  Another 
place  sprung  into  being,  a  smaller  quadrangle  of  neat  houses, 
called  Brown's  Square.  So  much  was  thought  of  it  at  first,  that 
a  correspondent  of  the  Edi7iburgh  Advertiser,  in  1764,  seriously 
counsels  his  fellow-citizens  to  erect  in  it  an  equestrian  statue  of 

*  Pamphlet  circa  1700,  Wodrow  Collection,  Adv.  Lib. 


1 6  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

the  then  popular  young  king,  George  III. !  This  place,  too,  had 
some  distinguished  inhabitants;  till  1846,  one  of  the  houses 
continued  to  be  nominally  the  town  mansion  of  a  venerable 
judge.  Lord  Glenlee.  We  pass  willingly  from  these  traits  of 
grandeur  to  dwell  on  the  fact  of  its  having  been  the  residence  of 
Miss  Jeanie  Elliot  of  Minto,  the  authoress  of  the  original  song, 
The  Flowers  of  the  Forest;  and  even  to  bethink  ourselves  that 
here  Scott  placed  the  ideal  abode  of  Saunders  Fairford  and  the 
adventure  of  Green  Mantle.  Sir  Walter  has  informed  us,  from 
his  own  recollections,  that  the  inhabitants  of  these  southern 
districts  formed  for  a  long  time  a  distinct  class  of  themselves, 
having  even  places  of  polite  amusement  for  their  own  recreation, 
independent  of  the  rest  of  Edinburgh.  He  tells  us  that  the 
society  was  of  the  first  description,  including,  for  one  thing, 
most  of  the  gentlemen  who  wrote  in  the  Mirror  and  the 
Lounger.  There  was  one  venerable  inhabitant  who  did  not  die 
till  half  the  New  Town  was  finished,  yet  he  had  never  once 
seen  it ! 

The  exertions  of  Drummond  at  length  procured  an  act  (1767) 
for  extending  the  royalty  of  the  city  over  the  northern  fields ; 
and  a  bridge  was  then  erected  to  connect  these  with  the  elder 
city.  The  scheme  was  at  first  far  from  popular.  The  exposure 
to  the  north  and  east  winds  was  felt  as  a  grievous  disadvantage, 
especially  while  houses  were  few.  So  unpleasant  even  was  the 
North  Bridge  considered,  that  a  lover  told  a  New-Town  mistress 
— to  be  sure  only  in  an  epigram — that  when  he  visited  her,  he 
felt  as  performing  an  adventure  not  much  short  of  that  of 
Leander.  The  aristocratic  style  of  the  place  alarmed  a  number 
of  pockets,  and  legal  men  trembled  lest  their  clients  and  other 
employers  should  forget  them,  if  they  removed  so  far  from  the 
centre  of  things  as  Princes  Street  and  St  Andrew  Square.  Still, 
the  move  was  unavoidable,  and  behoved  to  be  made. 

It  is  curious  to  cast  the  eye  over  the  beautiful  city  which  now 
extends  over  this  district,  the  residence  of  as  refined  a  mass  of 
people  as  could  be  found  in  any  similar  space  of  ground  upon 
earth,  and  reflect  on  what  the  place  was  a  hundred  years  ago. 


THE   CHANGES   OF   THE   LAST   HUNDRED   YEARS.  ^^ 

The  bulk  of  it  was  a  fanii,  usually  called  Wood's  Farm,  from  its 
tenant  (the  father  of  a  clever  surgeon,  well  known  in  Edinburgh 
in  the  last  age  under  the  familiar  appellation  of  Lajzg  Sandy 
Wood).  Henry  Mackenzie,  author  of  the  Man  of  Feeling,  who 
died  in  183 1,  rerpembered  shooting  snipes,  hares,  and  partridges 
about  that  very  spot  to  which  he  alludes  at  the  beginning  of  the 
paper  on  Nancy  Collins,  in  the  Mirror  (July  1779):  'As  I 
walked  one  evening,  about  a  fortnight  ago,  through  St  Afidrew 
Square,  I  observed  a  girl  meanly  dressed,'  &c.  Nearly  along 
the  line  now  occupied  by  Princes  Street,  was  a  rough  enclosed 
road,  called  the  Lang  Gait  or  Za7ig  Dykes,  the  way  along  which 
Claverhouse  went  with  his  troopers  in  1689,  when  he  retired  in 
disgust  from  the  Convention,  with  the  resolution  of  raising  a 
rebellion  in  the  Highlands.  On  the  site  of  the  present  Register 
House  was  a  hamlet  or  small  group  of  houses  called  Mictriis 
Hill;  and  where  the  Royal  Bank  now  stands  was  a  cottage 
wherein  ambulative  citizens  regaled  themselves  with  fruit,  and 
curds  and  cream.  Broughton,  which  latterly  has  been  surprised 
and  swamped  by  the  spreading  city,  was  then  a  village  con- 
sidered as  so  far  afield,  that  people  went  to  live  in  it  for  the 
summer  months,  under  the  pleasing  idea  that  they  had  got  into 
the  country.  It  is  related  that  Whitefield  used  to  preach  to  vast 
multitudes  on  the  spot  which  by  and  by  became  appropriated 
for  the  Theatre  Royal.  Coming  back  one  year,  and  finding 
a  playhouse  on  the  site  of  his  tub,  he  was  extremely  incensed. 
Could  it  be,  as  Burns  suggests, 

*  There  was  rivalry  just  in  the  job  ! ' 
James  Craig,  a  nephew  of  the  poet  Thomson,  was  intrusted  with 
the  duty  of  planning  the  new  city.     In  the  engraved  plan,  he 
appropriately  quotes  from  his  uncle : 

« Augxist,  around,  what  PUBLIC  WORKS  I  see  ! 
Lo,  stately  streets  !  lo,  squares  that  court  the  breeze  ! 
See  long  canals  and  deepened  rivers  join 
Each  part  with  each,  and  with  the  circling  main, 
The  whole  entwined  isle.' 

The  names  of  the  streets  and  squares  were  taken  from  the  royal 


l8  TRADITIONS   OF  EDINBURGH. 

family,  and  the  tutelary  saints  of  the  island.  The  honest  citizens 
had  originally  intended  to  put  their  own  local  saint  in  the  fore- 
ground; but  when  the  plan  was  shewn  to  the  king  for  his 
approval,  he  cried  :  '  Hey,  hey — what,  what — Sf  Giles  Street ! — 
neyer  do,  never  do  1'  And  so,  to  escape  from  an  unpleasant 
association  of  ideas,  this  street  was  called  Princes  Street,  in 
honour  of  the  king's  two  sons,  afterwards  George  IV.  and  the 
Duke  of  York.  So  difficult  was  it  at  the  very  first  to  induce 
men  to  build,  that  a  premium  of  twenty  pounds  was  offered  by 
the  magistrates  to  him  who  should  raise  the  first  house ;  it  was 
awarded  to  Mr  John  Young,  on  account  of  a  mansion  erected  by 
'him  in  Rose  Court,  George  Street.  An  exemption  from  burghal 
taxes  was  also  granted  to  Mr  John  Neale,  a  mercer,  for  an  elegant 
house  built  by  him,  the  first  in  the  line  of  Princes  Street  (Crown 
Hotel),  where  his  son-in-law,  Archibald  Constable,  afterwards 
was  established.  These  now  appear  whimsical  circumstances. 
So  does  it  that  a  Mr  Shadrach  Moyes,  on  ordering  a  house  to  be 
built  for  himself  in  Princes  Street,  in  1769,  took  the  builder 
bound  to  rear  another  further  along  besides  his,  to  shield  him 
from  the  west  wind !  Other  quaint  particulars  are  remembered ; 
as,  for  instance :  Mr  Wight,  an  eminent  lawyer,  who  had  planted 
himself  in  St  Andrew  Square,  finding  he  was  in  danger  of  having 
his  view  of  St  Giles's  clock  shut  up  by  the  advancing  line  of 
Princes  Street,  built  the  intervening  house  himself,  that  he  might 
have  it  in  his  power  to  keep  the  roof  low,  for  the  sake  of  the 
view  in  question ;  important  to  him,  he  said,  as  enabling  him  ta 
regulate  his  movements  in  the  morning,  when  it  was  necessary 
that  he  should  be  punctual  in  his  attendance  at  the  Parliament 
House. 

The  foundation  was  at  length  laid  of  that  revolution  which 
has  ended  in  making  Edinburgh  a  kind  of  double  cxiy— first, 
an  ancient  and  picturesque  hill-built  one,  occupied  chiefly  by 
the  humbler  classes;  and  second,  an  elegant  modern  one,  of 
much  regularity  of  aspect,  and  possessed  almost  as  exclusively 
by  the  more  refined  portion  of  society.  The  New  Town, 
keeping  pace  mtli  the  growing  prosperity  of  the  country,  had,  ia 


THE   CHANGES   OF  THE   LAST   HUNDRED  YEARS.  1 9 

1790,  been  extended  to  Castle  Street;  in  1800,  the  necessity  for 
a  second  plan  of  the  same  extent  still  further  to  the  north  had 
been  felt,  and  this  was  soon  after  acted  upon.  Forty  years  saw 
the  Old  Town  thoroughly  changed  as  respects  population.  One 
after  another,  its  nobles  and  gentry,  its  men  of  the  robe,  its 
'  writers,'  and  even  its  substantial  burghers,  had  during  that  time 
deserted  their  mansions  in  the  High  Street  and  Canongate,  till 
few  were  left.  Even  those  modem  districts  connected  with  it, 
as  St  John  Street,  New  Street,  George  Square,  &c.  were 
beginning  to  be  forsaken  for  the  sake  of  more  elegantly  circum- 
stanced habitations  beyond  the  North  Loch.  Into  the  remote 
social  consequences  of  this  change  it  is  not  my  purpose  to  enter, 
beyond  the  bare  remark,  that  it  was  only  too  accordant  with 
that  tendency  of  our  present  form  of  civilisation  to  separate  the 
high  from  the  low,  the  intelligent  from  the  ignorant — that  dis- 
sociation, in  short,  which  would  in  itself  run  nigh  to  be  a 
condemnation  of  all  progress,  if  we  were  not  allowed  to  suppose 
that  better  forms  of  civilisation  are  realisable.  Enough  that  I 
mention  the  tangible  consequences  of  the  revolution — a  flooding 
in  of  the  humbler  trading  classes  where  gentles  once  had  been ; 
the  houses  of  these  classes,  again,  filled  with  the  vile  and 
miserable.  Now  were  to  be  seen  hundreds  of  instances  of  such 
changes  as  Provost  Creech  indicates  in  1783:  'The  Lord 
Justice-clerk  Tinwald's  house  possessed  by  a  French  teacher — 
Lord  President  Craigie's  house  by  a  rouping-wife  or  salewoman 
of  old  furniture — and  Lord  Drummore's  house  left  by  a  chair- 
man for  want  of  accommodation.'  '  The  house  of  the  Duke  of 
Douglas  at  the  Union,  now  possessed  by  a  wheelwright!'  To 
one  who,  like  myself,  was  young  in  the  early  part  of  the  present 
century,  it  was  scarcely  possible,  as  he  permeated  the  streets 
and  closes  of  ancient  Edinburgh,  to  realise  the  idea  of  a  time 
when  the  great  were  housed  therein.  But  many  a  gentleman  in 
middle  life,  then  living  perhaps  in  Queen  Street  or  Charlotte 
Square,  could  recollect  the  close  or  the  common  stair  where 
he  had  been  bom,  and  spent  his  earHest  years,  now  altogether 
given  up  to  a  different  portion   of  society.      And  when   the 


20  TRADITIONS    OF   EDINBURGH. 

younger  perambulator  inquired  more  narrowly,  he  could  dis- 
cover traces  of  this  former  population.  Here  and  there  a  carved 
coat-armorial,  with  supporters,  perhaps  even  a  coronet,  arrested 
attention  amidst  the  obscurities  of  some  wyjid  or  court.  Did  he 
ascend  a  stair  and  enter  a  floor,  now  subdivided  perhaps  into 
four  or  five  distinct  dwellings,  he  might  readily  perceive,  in  the 
massive  wainscot  of  the  lobby,  a  proof  that  the  refinements  of 
life  had  once  been  there.  Still  more  would  this  idea  be 
impressed  upon  him  when,  passing  into  one  of  the  best  rooms  of 
the  old  house,  he  would  find  not  only  a  continuation  of  such 
wainscoting,  but  perhaps  a  tolerable  landscape  by  Norie,  on  a 
panel  above  the  fireplace,  or  a  ceiling  decorated  by  De  la  Cour, 
a  French  artist,  who  flourished  in  Edinburgh  about  1740.  Even 
yet  he  would  discover  a  very  few  relics  of  gentry  maintaining 
their  ground  in  the  Old  Town,  as  if  faintly  to  shew  what  it  had 
once  been.  These  were  generally  old  people,  who  did  not  think 
it  worth  while  to  make  any  change  till  the  great  one.  There  is 
a  melancholy  pleasure  in  recalling  what  I  myself  found  about 
1820,  when  my  researches  for  this  work  were  commenced.  In 
that  year  I  was  in  the  house  of  Governor  Fergusson,  an  ancient 
gentleman  of  the  Pitfour  family,  in  a  floor,  one  stair  up,  in  the 
Luckenbooths.  About  the  same  time  I  attended  the  book-sale 
of  Dr  Arrot,  a  physician  of  good  figure,  newly  deceased,  in  the 
Mint  Close.  For  several  years  later,  any  one  ascending  a  now 
miserable-looking  stair  in  Blackfriars  Wynd,  would  have  seen  a 
door-plate  inscribed  with  the  name  Miss  Oliphant,  a  member  of 
the  Gask  family.  Nay,  so  late  as  1832, 1  had  the  pleasure  of  break- 
fasting with  Sir  William  Macleod  Bannatyne  in  Whiteford  House, 
Canongate  (afterwards  a  type-foundry),  on  which  occasion  the 
venerable  old  gentleman  talked  as  familiarly  of  the  levees  of  the 
sous-ministre  for  Lord  Bute  in  the  old  villa  at  the  Abbey  Hill,  as 
I  could  have  talked  of  the  affairs  of  the  Canning  administration; 
and  even  recalled,  as  a  fresh  picture  of  his  meniory,  his  father 
drawing  on  his  boots  to  go  to  make  interest  in  London  in  behalf 
of  some  of  the  men  in  trouble  for  the  forty-five,  particularly  his 
own  brother-in-law,  the  Clanranald  of  that  day.     Such  were  the 


THE   CASTLE-HILL.  21 

connections  recently  existing  between  the  past  system  of  things 
and  the  present.  Now,  alas  !  the  sun  of  Old-Town  glory  has  set 
for  ever.  Nothing  is  left  but  the  decaying  and  rapidly  diminish- 
ing masses  of  ancient  masonry,  and  a  handful  of  traditionary 
recollections,  which  be  it  my  humble  but  not  unworthy  task  to 
transmit  to  future  generations. 


THE    CASTLE-HILL. 

Hugo  Amot — Allan  Ramsay — House  of  the  Gordon  Family — Sir  David 
Baird — Dr  Webster — House  of  Mary  de  Guise. 

The  saunter  which  I  contemplate  through  the  streets  and 
stories,  the  lanes  and  legends,  of  Old  Edinburgh,  may  properly 
commence  at  the  Castle-hill,  as  it  is  a  marked  extremity  of  the 
city,  as  well  as  its  highest  ground. 

The  Castle-hill  is  partly  an  esplanade,  serving  as  a  parade 
ground  for  the  garrison  of  the  Castle,  and  partly  a  street,  the 
upper  portion  of  that  vertebral  line  which,  under  the  various 
names  of  Lawnmarket,  High  Street,  and  Canongate,  extends  to 
Holyrood  Palace.  The  open  ground — a  scene  of  warfare  during 
the  sieges  of  the  fortress,  often  a  place  of  execution  in  rude 
times — the  place,  too,  where,  by  a  curious  legal  fiction,  the  Nova 
Scotia  baronets  were  infeoffed  in  their  ideal  estates  on  the  other 
side  of  the  Atlantic — was  all  that  Edinburgh  possessed  as  a 
readily  accessible  promenade  before  the  extension  of  the  city. 
We  find  the  severe  acts  for  a  strict  observance  of  the  Sabbath, 
which  appeared  from  time  to  time  in  the  latter  part  of  the 
seventeenth  and  early  part  of  the  eighteenth  century,  denouncing 
the  King's  Park,  the  Pier  of  Leith,  and  the  Castle-hill,  as  the 
places  chiefly  resorted  to  for  the  profane  sport  of  walking  on 
'the  Lord's  Day.'  Denounce  as  they  might,  human  nature 
could  never,  I  believe,  be  altogether  kept  off  the  Castle-hill ; 
even  the  most  respectable  people  walked  there  in  multitudes 
xiuring  the  intervals  between  morning  and  evening  service.     We 


22  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

have  an  allusion  to  the  promenade  character  of  the  Castle-hill 
in  Ramsay's  city  pastoral,  as  it  may  be  called,  of  The  Young 
Laird  a?id  Edinburgh  Katy — 

'  Wat  ye  wha  I  met  yestreen, 

Coming  down  the  street,  my  jo  ? 
My  mistress  in  her  tartan  screen, 
Fu'  bonny,  braw,  and  sweet,  my  jo. 

'  "  My  dear,"  quoth  I,  "thanks  to  the  night, 

That  never  wished  a  lover  ill. 
Since  ye  're  out  o'  your  mother's  sight. 
Let 's  tak'  a  walk  up  to  the  hill" ' 

A  memory  of  these  Sunday  promenadings  here  calls  me  to 
introduce  what  I  have  to  say  regarding  a  man  of  whom  there 
used  to  be  a  strong  popular  remembrance  in  Edinburgh. 

HUGO   ARNOT. 

The  cleverly  executed  History  of  Edifiburgh,  published  by 
Arnot  in  1779,  and  which  to  this  day  has  not  been  superseded, 
gives  some  respectability  to  a  name  which  tradition  would  have 
otherwise  handed  down  to  us  as  only  that  of  an  eccentric  gentle- 
man, of  remarkably  scarecrow  figure,  and  the  subject  of  a  few 
boji-mots. 

He  was  the  son  of  a  Leith  shipmaster,  named  Pollock,  and 
took  the  name  of  Arnot  from  a  small  inheritance  in  Fife.  Many 
who  have  read  his  laborious  work  will  be  little  prepared  to  hear 
that  it  was  written  when  the  author  was  between  twenty  and 
thirty ;  and  that,  antiquated  as  his  meagre  figure  looks  in  Kay's 
Portraits,  he  was,  at  his  death  in  1786,  only  thirty-seven.  His 
body  had  been,  in  reality,  made  prematurely  old  by  a  confirmed 
asthma,  accompanied  by  a  cough,  which  he  himself  said  would 
carry  him  off  like  a  rocket  some  day,  when  a  friend  remarked, 
with  reference  to  his  known  latitudinarianism  :  '  Possibly,  Hugo 
in  the  contrary  direction.' 

Most  of  the  jokes  about  poor  Hugo's  person  have  been 
frequently  printed — as  Harry  Erskine  meeting  him  on  the  street 
when  he  was  gnawing  at  a  spelding  or  dried  haddock,  and 


HUGO  ARNOT.  23 

congratulating  him  on  looking  so  like  his  meat — and  his  offending 
the  piety  of  an  old  woman  who  was  cheapening  a  Bible  in 
Creech's  shop,  by  some  thoughdess  remark,  when  she  first  burst 
out  with  :  '  Oh,  you  monster  ! '  and  then  turning  round  and 
seeing  him,  added :  '  And  he 's  an  anatomy  too  ! '  An  epigram 
by  Erskine  is  less  known  : 

'  The  Scriptures  assure  us  that  much  is  forgiven 
To  flesh  and  to  blood  hy  the  mercy  of  Heaven  ; 
But  I  've  searched  the  whole  Bible,  and  texts  can  find  none, 
That  extend  the  assurance  to  skin  and  to  bone.'' 

Arnot  was  afflicted  by  a  constitutional  irritability  to  an  extent 
which  can  hardly  be  conceived.  A  printer's  boy,  handing  papers 
to  him  over  his  shoulder,  happened  to  touch  his  ear  with  one  of 
them,  when  he  started  up  in  a  rage,  and  demanded  of  the 
trembling  youth  what  he  meant  by  insulting  him  in  that  manner  ! 
Probably  from  some  quarrel  arising  out  of  this  nervous  weakness 
■ — for  such  it  really  was — the  Edinburgh  booksellers,  to  a  man, 
refused  to  have  anything  to  do  with  the  prospectuses  of  his 
Criminal  Trials,  and  Arnot  had  to  advertise  that  they  were  to 
be  seen  in  the  coffee-houses,  instead  of  the  booksellers'  shops. 

About  the  time  when  he  entered  at  the  bar  (1772),  he  had  a 
fancy  for  a  young  lady  named  Hay  (afterwards  Mrs  Macdougall), 
sister  of  a  gentleman  who  succeeded  as  Marquis  of  Tweeddale, 
and  then  a  reigning  toast.  One  Sunday,  when  he  contemplated 
making  up  to  his  divinity  on  the  Castle-hill,  after  forenoon 
service,  he  entertained  two  young  friends  at  breakfast  in  his 
lodgings  at  the  head  of  the  Canongate.  By  and  by,  the  affairs 
of  the  toilet  came  to  be  considered.  It  was  then  found  that 
Hugo's  washerwoman  had  played  false,  leaving  him  in  a  total 
destitution  of  clean  linen,  or  at  least  of  clean  linen  that  was  also 
whole.  A  dreadful  storm  took  !  place,  but  at  length,  on  its 
calming  a  little,  love  found  out  a  way,  by  taking  the  hand-ruffles 
of  one  cast  garment,  in  connection  with  the  front  of  another, 
and  adding  both  to  the  body  of  a  third.  In  this  eclectic  form  of 
shirt  the  meagre  young  philosopher  marched  forth  with  his 
friends,  and  was  rewarded  for  his  perseverance  by  being  allowed 


24  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

a  very  pleasant  chat  with  the  young  lady  on  'the  hill.'  His 
friends  standing  by  had  their  own  enjoyment,  in  reflecting  what 
the  beauteous  Miss  Hay  would  think  if  she  knew  the  struggles 
which  her  admirer  had  had  that  morning  in  preparing  to  make 
his  appearance  before  her. 

Arnot  latterly  dwelt  in  a  small  house  at  the  end  of  the  Meuse 
Lane  in  St  Andrew  Street,  with  an  old  and  very  particular  lady 
for  a  neighbour  in  the  upper  floor.  Disturbed  by  the  enthusiastic 
way  in  which  he  sometimes  rang  his  bell,  the  lady  ventured  to 
send  a  remonstrance,  which,  however,  produced  no  effect.  This 
led  to  a  bad  state  of  matters  between  them.  At  length  a  very 
pressing  and  petulant  message  being  handed  in  one  day,  insisting 
that  he  should  endeavour  to  call  his  servants  in  a  different 
manner,  what  was  the  lady's  astonishment  next  morning  to  hear 
a  pistol  discharged  in  Amot's  house !  He  was  simply  complying 
with  the  letter  of  his  neighbour's  request,  by  firing,  instead  of 
ringing,  as  a  signal  for  shaving-water. 

ALLAN   RAMSAY. 

On  the  north  side  of  the  esplanade — enjoying  a  splendid  view 
of  the  Firth  of  Forth,  Fife,  and  Stirling  shires — is  the  neat  little 
villa  of  Allan  Ramsay,  surrounded  by  its  miniature  pleasure- 
grounds.  The  sober  industrious  life  of  this  exception  to  the 
race  of  poets  having  resulted  in  a  small  competency,  he  built 
this  odd-shaped  house  in  his  latter  days,  designing  to  enjoy  in  it 
the  Horatian  quiet  which  he  had  so  often  eulogised  in  his  verse. 
The  story  goes,  that,  shewing  it  soon  after  to  the  clever  Patrick, 
Lord  Elibank,  with  much  fussy  interest  in  all  its  externals  and 
accommodations,  he  remarked  that  the  wags  were  already  at 
work  on  the  subject — they  likened  it  to  a  goosei-pie  (owing  to 
the  roundness  of  the  shape).  '  Indeed,  Allan,'  said  his  lordship, 
*  now  I  see  you  in  it,  I  think  the  wags  are  not  far  wrong.' 

The  splendid  reputation  of  Bums  has  eclipsed  that  of  Ramsay 
so  effectually,  that  this  pleasing  poet,  and,  upon  the  whole, 
amiable  and  worthy  man,  is  now  little  regarded.  Yet  Ramsay 
can  never  be  deprived  of  the  credit  of  having  written  the  best 


ALLAN  RAMSAY.  2$ 

pastoral  poem  in  the  range  of  British  literature — if  even  that  be 
not  too  narrow  a  word — and  many  of  his  songs  are  of  great 
merit. 

Ramsay  was  secretly  a  Jacobite,  openly  a  dissenter  from  the 
severe  manners  and  feelings  of  his  day,  although  a  very  decent 
and  regular  attender  of  the  Old  Church  in  St  Giles's.  He 
delighted  in  music  and  theatricals,  and,  as  we  shall  see, 
encouraged  the  Assembly.  It  was  also  no  doubt  his  own  taste 
which  led  him,  in  1725,  to  set  up  a  circulating  library,  whence 
he  diffused  plays  and  other  works  of  fiction  among  the  people  of 
Edinburgh.  It  appears,  from  the  private  notes  of  the  historian 
Wodrow,  that,  in  1728,  the  magistrates,  moved  by  some 
meddling  spirits,  took  alarm  at  the  effect  of  this  kind  of  reading 
on  the  minds  of  youth,  and  made  an  attempt  to  put  it  down, 
but  without  effect  One  cannot  but  be  amused  to  find  amongst 
these  self-constituted  guardians  of  morality.  Lord  Grange,  who 
kept  his  wife  in  unauthorised  restraint  for  several  years,  and 
whose  own  life  was  a  scandal  to  his  professions.  Ramsay,  as  is 
well  known,  also  attempted  to  establish  a  theatre  in  Edinburgh, 
but  failed.  The  following  advertisement  on  this  subject  appears 
in  the  Caledonian  Mercury,  September  1736:  'The  New 
Theatre  in  Carrubber's  Close  being  in  great  forwardness,  will  be 
opened  the  ist  of  November.  These  are  to  advertise  the 
gentlemen  and  ladies  who  incline  to  purchase  annual  tickets,  to 
enter  their  names  before  the  20th  of  October  next,  on  which  day 
they  shall  receive  their  tickets  from  AUan  Ramsay,  on  paying 
30s. — no  more  than  forty  to  be  subscribed  for;  after  which  none 
will  be  disposed  of  under  two  guineas.' 

The  late  Mrs  Murray  of  Henderland  knew  Ramsay  for  the 
last  ten  years  of  his  life,  her  sister  having  married  his  son,  the 
celebrated  painter.  She  spoke  of  him  to  me  in  1825  with  kindly 
enthusiasm,  as  one  of  the  most  amiable  men  she  had  ever 
known.  His  constant  cheerfulness  and  lively  conversational 
powers  had  made  him  a  favourite  amongst  persons  of  rank, 
whose  guest  he  frequently  was.  Being  very  fond  of  children,  he 
encouraged  his  daughters  in  bringing  troops  of  young  ladies 


26  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

about  the  house,  in  whose  sports  he  would  mix  with  a  patience 
and  vivacity  wonderful  in  an  old  man.  He  used  to  give  these 
young  friends  a  kind  of  ball  once  a  year.  From  pure  kindness 
for  the  young,  he  would  help  to  make  dolls  for  them,  and  cradles 
wherein  to  place  these  little  effigies,  with  his  own  hands.  But 
here  a  fashion  of  the  age  must  be  held  in  view ;  for,  however 
odd  it  may  appear,  it  is  undoubtedly  true  that  to  make  and 
dispose  of  dolls,  such  as  children  now  alone  are  interested  in, 
was  a  practice  in  vogue  amongst  grown-up  ladies  who  had  little 
to  do  about  a  hundred  years  ago. 

Ramsay  died  in  1757.  An  elderly  female  told  a  friend  of 
mine  that  she  remembered,  when  a  girl  living  as  an  apprentice 
with  a  milliner  in  the  Grassmarket,  being  sent  to  Ramsay 
Garden  to  assist  in  making  dead-clothes  for  the  poet.  She  could 
recall,  however,  no  particulars  of  the  scene,  but  the  roses 
blooming  in  at  the  window  of  the  death-chamber. 

The  poet's  house  passed  to  his  son,  of  the  same  name,  eminent 
as  a  painter — portrait-painter  to  King  George  III.  and  his  queen 
— and  a  man  of  high  mental  culture ;  consequently  much  a 
favourite  in  the  circles  of  Johnson  and  Boswell.  The  younger 
Allan  enlarged  the  house,  and  built  three  additional  houses  to 
the  eastward,  bearing  the  title  of  Ramsay  Garden.  At  his  death 
in  1784,  the  property  went  to  his  son.  General  John  Ramsay, 
who,  dying  in  1845,  left  this  mansion  and  a  large  fortune  to  Mr 
Murray  of  Henderland.  So  ended  the  line  of  the  poet.  His 
daughter  Christian,  an  amiable,  kind-hearted  woman,  said  to 
possess  a  gift  of  verse,  lived  for  many  years  in  New  Street.  At 
seventy-four,  she  had  the  misfortune  to  be  thrown  down  by  a 
hackney-coach,  and  had  her  leg  broken ;  yet  she  recovered,  and 
lived  to  the  age  of  eighty-eight.  Leading  a  solitary  life,  she 
took  a  great  fancy  for  cats.  Besides  supporting  many  in  her 
own  house,  curiously  disposed  in  bandboxes,  with  doors  to  go 
in  and  out  at,  she  caused  food  to  be  laid  out  for  others  on  her 
stair  and  around  her  house.  Not  a  word  of  obloquy  would  she 
listen  to  against  the  species,  alleging,  when  any  wickedness  of  a 
cat  was  spoken  of,  that  the  animal   must  have  acted  under 


ALLAN   RAMSAY. 


27 


provocation,  for  by  nature,  she  asserted,  cats  are  harmless. 
Often  did  her  maid  go  with  morning  messages  to  her  friends, 
inquiring,  with  her  compliments,  after  their  pet  cats.  Good  Miss 
Ramsay  was  also  a  friend  to  horses,  and  indeed  to  all  creatures. 
When  she  observed  a  carter  ill-treating  his  horse,  she  would 
march  up  to  him,  tax  him  with  cruelty,  and,  by  the  very 
earnestness  of  her  remonstrances,  arrest  the  barbarian's  hand. 
So  also,  Avhen  she  saw  one  labouring  on  the  street,  with  the 


Ramsay's  House,  as  it  appeared  in  1S45. 


appearance  of  defective  diet,  she  would  send  rolls  to  its  master, 
entreating  him  to  feed  the  animal.  These  peculiarities,  although 
a  little  eccentric,  are  not  unpleasing ;  and  I  cannot  be  sorry  to 
record  them  of  the  daughter  of  one  whose  heart  and  head  were 
an  honour  to  his  country. 

[1868. — It  seems  to  have  been  unknown  to  the  biographers  of 
Allan  Ramsay  the  painter,  that  he  made  a  romantic  marriage.   In 

c 


28  "  TRADITIONS  OF   EDINBURGH. 

his  early  days,  while  teaching  the  art  of  drawing  in  the  family  of 
Sir  Alexander  Lindsay  of  Evelick,  one  of  the  young  ladies  fell  in 
love  with  him,  captivated  probably  by  the  tongue  which  after- 
wards gave  him  the  intimacy  of  princes,  and  was  undoubtedly  a 
great  source  of  his  success  in  life.  The  father  of  the  enamoured 
girl  was  an  old  proud  baronet;  her. mother,  a  sister  of  the  Chief- 
justice  Earl  of  Mansfield.  A  marriage  with  consent  of  parents 
was  consequently  impossible.  The  young  people,  nevertheless, 
contrived  to  get  themselves  united  in  wedlock. 

The  speedily  developed  talents  of  Ramsay,  the  illustrious 
patronage  they  secured  to  him,  and  the  very  considerable  wealth 
which  he  acquired,  must  have  in  time  made  him  an  acceptable 
relation  to  those  proud  people.  A  time  came  when  their 
descendants  held  the  connection  even  as  an  honour.  The 
wealth  of  the  painter  ultimately,  on  the  death  of  his  son  in  1845, 
became  the  property  of  Mr  Murray  of  Henderland,  a  grandson 
of  Sir  Alexander  Lindsay,  and  nephew  of  Mrs  Allan  Ramsay ; 
thence  it  not  long  after  passed  to  Mr  Murray's  brother,  Sir  John 
Archibald  Murray,  better  known  by  his  judicial  name  of  Lord 
Murray.  This  gentleman  admired  the  poet,  and  resolved  to 
raise  a  statue  to  him  beside  his  goose-pie  house  on  the  Castle- 
hill;  but  the  situation  proved  unsuitable,  and  since  his  own 
lamented  death  in  1858,  the  marble  full-length  of  worthy  Allan, 
from  the  studio  of  John  Steell,  has  found  a  noble  place  in  the 
Princes  Street  Gardens,  resting  on  a  pedestal,  containing  on  its 
principal  side  a  medallion  portrait  of  Lord  Murray,  on  the 
reverse  one  of  General  Ramsay,  on  the  west  side  one  of  the 
General's  lady,  and  on  the  east  similar  representations  of  the 
General's  two  daughters.  Lady  Campbell  and  Mrs  Malcolm. 
Thus  we  find — owing  to  the  esteem  which  genius  ever  com- 
mands— the  poet  of  the  Gentle  Shepherd  in  the  immortality  of 
marble,  surrounded  by  the  figures  of  relatives  and  descendants 
who  so  acknowledged  their  aristocratic  rank  to  be  inferior  to  his, 
derived  from  mind  alone.] 


HOUSE  OF  THE  GORDON  FAMILY. 


29 


HOUSE   OF  THE   GORDON    FAMILY. 

Tradition  points  out,  as  the  residence  of  the  Gordon  family, 
a  house,  or  rather  range  of  buildings,  situated  between  Blair's 
and  Brown's  Closes,  being  almost  the  first  mass  of  building  in 
the  Castle-hill  Street  on  the  right- 
hand  side.  The  southern  portion 
is  a  structure  of  lofty  and  massive 
form,  battlemented  at  top,  and 
looking  out  upon  a  garden  which 
formerly  stretched  down  to  the  old 
town-wall  near  the  Grassmarket, 
but  is  now  crossed  by  the  access 
from  the  King's  Bridge.  From  the 
style  of  building,  I  should  be  dis- 
posed to  assign  it  a  date  a  little 
subsequent  to  the  Restoration. 
There  are,  however,  no  authentic 
memorials  respecting  the  alleged 
connection  of  the  Gordon  family 
with  this  house,  unless  we  are  to 
consider  as  of  that  character  a 
coronet  resembling  that  of  a  mar- 
quis, flanked  by  two  deer-hounds, 
the  well-known  supporters  of  this 
noble  family,  which  figures  over  a  finely  moulded  door  in  Blair's 
Close.  The  coronet  will  readily  be  supposed  to  point  to  the 
time  when  the  Marquis  of  Huntly  was  the  principal  honour  of 
the  family — that  is,  previous  to  1684,  when  the  title  of  Duke  of 
Gordon  was  conferred.* 


Doorway  of  Duke  of  Gordon's 
House. 


*  George,  sixth  Earl  of  Huntly,  took  his  last  illness,  June  1636,  in  'his  house  in  the 
Canongate.'  George,  the  first  duke,  who  had  held  out  the  Castle  at  the  Revolution,  died 
December  1716,  at  his  house  in  the  Citadel  of  Leith,  where  he  appears  to  have  occasionally 
resided  for  some  years.  I  should  suppose  the  house  on  the  Castle-hill  to  have  been 
inhabited  by  the  family  in  the  interval  between  these  dates. 

The  Citadel  seems  to  have  been  a  little  nest  of  aristocracy,  of  the  Cavalier  party.  In  1745, 
one  of  its  inhabitants  was  Dame  Magdalen  Bruce  of  Kinross,  widow  of  the  baronet  who  had 


30  TRADITIONS    OF   EDINBURGH. 

In  more  recent  times,  this  substantial  mansion  was  the  abode 
of  Mi"  Baird  of  Newbyth ;  and  here  it  was  that  the  late  gallant 
Sir  David  Baird,  the  hero  of  Seringapatam,  was  bom  and 
brought  up.  Returning  in  advanced  life  from  long  foreign 
service,  this  distinguished  soldier  came  to  see  the  home  of  his 
youth  on  the  Castle-hill.  The  respectable  individual  whom  I 
found  occupying  the  house  in  1824  received  his  visitor  with  due 
respect,  and  after  shewing  him  through  the  house,  conducted 
him  out  to  the  garden.  Here  the  boys  of  the  existing  tenant 
were  found  actively  engaged  in  throwing  cabbage-stalks  at  the 
tops  of  the  chimneys  of  the  houses  of  the  Grassmarket,  situated 
a  little  below  the  level  of  the  garden.  On  making  one  plump 
down  the  vent,  the  youngsters  set  up  a  great  shout  of  triumph. 
Sir  David  fell  a-laughing  at  sight  of  this  example  of  practical 
waggery,  and  entreated  the  father  of  the  lads  '  not  to  be  too 
angry :  he  and  his  brother,  when  living  here  at  the  same  age, 
had  indulged  in  precisely  the  same  amiable  amusement,  the 
chimneys  then,  as  now,  being  so  provokingly  open  to  such 
attacks,  that  there  was  no  resisting  the  temptation.' 

The  whole  matter  might  have  been  put  into  an  axiomatic 
form — Given  a  garden  with  cabbage  -  stalks,  and  a  set  of 
chimneys  situated  at  an  angle  of  forty-five  degrees  below  the 
spot,  any  boys  turned  loose  into  the  said  garden  will  be  sure 
to  endeavour  to  bring  the  cabbage-stalks  and  the  chimneys  into 
acquaintance. 

DR  WEBSTER, 

An  isolated  house  which  formerly  stood  in  Webster's  Close, 
a  little  way  down  the  Castle-hill,  was  the  residence  of  the  Rev.  Dr 
Webster,  a  man  eminent  in  his  day  on  many  accounts — a  lead- 
ing evangelical  clergyman  in  Edinburgh,  a  statist  and  calculator 

assisted  in  the  Restoration.  Here  lived  with  her  the  Rev.  Robert  Forbes,  Episcopal 
minister  of  Leith  [afterwards  Bishop  of  Orkney],  from  whose  collections  regarding  Charles 
Edward  and  his  adventures  a  volume  of  extracts  was  published  by  me  in  1834.  Through- 
out those  troublous  days,  a  little  Episcopal  congregation  was  kept  together  in  Leith  ;  their 
place  of  worship  being  the  first  floor  of  an  old  dull-looking  house  in  Queen  Street  (dated 
1615),  the  lower  floor  of  which  was,  in  my  recollection,  a  police-office. 


DR  WEBSTER.  3 1 

of  extraordinary  talent,  and  a  distinguished  figure  in  festive 
scenes.  The  first  population  returns  of  Scotland  were  obtained 
by  him  in  1755;  and  he  was  the  author  of  that  fund  for  the 
widows  of  the  clergy  of  the  Established  Church,  which  has 
proved  so  great  a  blessing  to  many,  and  still  exists  in  a  flourish- 
ing state.*  He  was  also  deep  in  the  consultations  of  the  magis- 
trates regarding  the  New  Town. 

It  is  not  easy  to  reconcile  the  two  leading  characteristics  of 
this  divine — his  being  the  pastor  of  a  flock  of  noted  sternness, 
called,  from  the  church  in  which  they  assembled,  the  Tolbooth 
Whigs ;  and  his  at  the  same  time  entering  heartily  and  freely 
into  the  convivialities  of  the  more  mirthful  portion  of  society. 
Perhaps  he  illustrated  the  maxim,  that  one  man  may  steal  horses 
with  impunity,  &c. ;  for  it  is  related  that,  going  home  early  one 
morning  with  strong  symptoms  of  over-indulgence  upon  him, 
and  being  asked  by  a  friend  who  met  him,  '  what  the  Tolbooth 
Whigs  would  say  if  they  were  to  see  him  at  this  moment?'  he 
instantly  replied :  '  They  would  not  believe  their  own  eyes.' 
Sometimes  he  did  fall  on  such  occasions  under  plebeian  obser- 
vation j  but  the  usual  remark  was :  '  Ah,  there 's  Dr  Webster, 
honest  man,  going  hame,  nae  doubt,  frae  some  puir  afilicted 
soul  he  has  been  visiting.  Never  does  he  tire  o'  welldoing ! ' 
And  so  forth. 

The  history  of  Dr  Webster's  marriage  is  romantic.  When  a 
young  and  unknown  man,  he  was  employed  by  a  friend  to  act 
as  go-between,  or,  as  it  is  termed  in  Scotland,  black-fit,  or  black- 
foot,  in  a  correspondence  which  he  was  carrying  on  with  a  young 
lady  of  great  beauty  and  accomplishment.  Webster  had  not 
acted  long  in  that  character,  till  the  young  lady,  who  had  never 
entertained  any  affection  for  his  constituent,  fell  deeply  in  love 
with  himself.     Her  birth  and  expectations  were  better  than  his  ; 

*  Before  the  government  bounty  had  supplemented  the  poor  stipends  of  the  Scotch  church 
up  to  ;£i5o,  many  of  them  were  so  small,  that  the  widow's  allowance  from  this  fund  nearly 
equalled  them.  Such  was  the  case  of  Cranshaws,  a  pastoral  parish  among  the  Lammermoor 
hills.  A  former  minister  of  Cranshaws  having  wooed  a  lass  of  humble  rank,  the  father  of 
the  lady,  when  consulted  on  the  subject,  said:  'Tak'  him,  Jenny;  he's  as  gude  deid  as 
living  !'  meaning  of  course  that  she  would  be  as  well  off  as  a  widow,  as  in  the  quality  of  a 
wife. 


32  TRADITIONS    OF   EDINBURGH. 

and  however  much  he  might  have  been  disposed  to  address  her 
on  his  own  behalf,  he  never  could  have  thought  of  such  a  thing 
so  long  as  there  was  such  a  difference  between  their  circum- 
stances. The  lady  saw  his  difficulty,  and  resolved  to  overcome 
it,  and  that  in  the  frankest  manner.  At  one  of  these  interviews, 
when  he  was  exerting  all  his  eloquence  in  favour  of  his  friend, 
she  plainly  told  him  that  he  would  probably  come  better  speed 
if  he  were  to  speak  for  himself.  He  took  the  hint,  and,  in  a 
word,  was  soon  after  married  to  her.  He  wrote  upon  the 
occasion  an  amorous  lyric,  which  exhibits  in  warm  colours  the 
gratitude  of  a  humble  lover  for  the  favour  of  a  mistress  of  superior 
station,  and  which  is  perhaps  as  excellent  altogether  in  its  way 
as  the  finest  compositions  of  the  kind  produced  in  either  ancient 
or  modem  times.  There  is  one  particularly  impassioned  verse, 
in  which,  after  describing  a  process  of  the  imagination  by  which, 
in  gazing  upon  her,  he  comes  to  think  her  a  creature  of  more 
than  mortal  nature,  he  says  that  at  length,  unable  to  contain,  he 
clasps  her  to  his  bosom,  and — 

'  Kissing  her  lips,  she  turns  woman  again  ! ' 

HOUSE   OF   MARY   DE   GUISE. 

The  restrictions  imposed  upon  a  city  requiring  defence, 
appear  as  one  of  the  forms  of  misery  leading  to  strange  associa- 
tions. We  become  in  a  special  degree  sensible  of  this  truth, 
when  we  see  the  house  of  a  royal  personage  sunk  amidst  the 
impurities  of  a  narrow  close  in  the  Old  Town  of  Edinburgh. 
Such  was  literally  the  case  of  an  aged  pile  of  buildings  on  the 
north  side  of  the  Castle-hill,  behind  the  front  line  of  the  street, 
and  accessible  by  Blyth's,  Nairn's,  and  Tod's  Closes,  which  was 
declared  by  tradition  to  have  been  the  residence  of  Mary  de 
Guise,  the  widow  of  James  V.,  and  from  1554  to  1560  regent  of 
this  realm. 

Descending  the  first  of  these  alleys  about  thirty  yards,  we 
came  to  a  dusky,  half-ruinous  building  on  the  left-hand  side, 
presenting  one  or  two  lofty  windows  and  a  doorway,  surrounded 
by  handsome  mouldings;   the  whole  bearing  that  appearance 


HOUSE   OF  MARY  DE   GUISE.  33 

which  says :  '  There  is  here  something  that  has  been  of  conse- 
quence, all  haggard  and  disgraced  though  it  now  be.'  Glancing 
to  the  opposite  side  of  the  close,  where  stood  another  portion  of 
the  same  building,  the  impression  was  confirmed  by  further 
appearances  of  a  goodly  style  of  architecture.  These  were,  in 
reality,  the  principal  portions  of  the  palace  of  the  Regent  Mary ; 
the  former  being  popularly  described  as  her  house,  thfe  latter  as 
her  oratory  or  chapel.  The  close  terminated  under  a  portion  of 
the  building;  and  when  the  visitor  made  his  way  so  far,  he  found 
an  exterior  presented  northwards,  with  many  windows,  whence 
of  old  a  view  must  have  been  commanded,  first  of  the  gardens 
descending  to  the  North  Loch,  and  second,  of  the  Firth  of 
Forth  and  Fife.  One  could  easily  understand  that,  when  the 
gardens  existed,  the  north  side  of  the  house  might  have  had 
many  pleasant  apartments,  and  been,  upon  the  whole,  tolerable 
as  a  place  of  residence,  albeit  the  access  by  a  narrow  alley  could 
never  have  been  agreeable.  Latterly,  the  site  of  the  upper  part 
of  the  garden  was  occupied  by  a  brushmaker's  workshops  and 
yard,  while  the  lower  was  covered  by  the  Earthen  Mound.  In 
the  wall  on  the  east  side  there  was  included,  as  a  mere  portion 
of  the  masonry,  a  stray  stone,  which  had  once  been  an  architrave 
or  lintel;  it  contained,  besides  an  armorial  device  flanked  by 
the  initials  A.  A.,  the  legend  Nosce  Teipsum,  and  the  date 

1557- 

Reverting  to  the  door  of  the  queen's  house,  which  was  simply 
the  access  of  a  common  stair,  we  there  found  an  ornamented 
architrave,  bearing  the  legend, 

LAUS  ET  HONOR  DEO, 

terminated  by  two  pieces  of  complicated  lettering,  one  much 
obliterated,  the  other  a  monogram  of  the  name  of  the  Virgin 
Mary,  formed  of  the  letters  M.  R.*     Finally,  at  the  extremities 

*  '  The  monograms  of  the  name  of  our  blessed  lady  are  formed  of  the  letters  M.  A.,  M.  R., 
and  A.  M.,  and  these  stand  respectively  for  Maria,  Maria  Regina,  and  Ave  Maria.  The 
letter  M.  was  often  used  by  itself  to  express  the  name  of  the  blessed  virgin,  and  became  a 
vehicle  for  the  most  beautiful  ornament  and  design  ;  the  letter  itself  being  entirely  composed 
of  emblems,  with  some  passage  from  the  life  of  our  lady  in  the  void  spaces.  — Ptigitis 
Glossary  0/ Ecclesiastical  Ornament  and  Costume,  1844. 


34  TRAJ)ITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

of  this  Stone,  were  two  Roman  letters  of  larger  size — I.  R. — 
doubtless  the  initials  of  James  Rex,  for  James  V.,  the  style  of 
cutting  being  precisely  the  same  as  in  the  initials  seen  on  the 
palace  built  by  that  king  in  Stirling  Castle ;  an  indirect  proof,  it 
may  be  remarked,  of  this  having  been  the  residence  of  the 
Regent  Mary. 

Passing  up  a  spiral  flight  of  steps,  we  came  to  a  darksome 
lobby,  leading  to  a  series  of  mean  apartments,  occupied  by 
persons  of  the  humblest  grade.  Immediately  within  the  door 
was  a  small  recess  in  the  wall,  composed  of  Gothic  stonework, 
and  supposed  by  the  people  to  have  been  designed  for  contaia- 
ing  holy-water,  though  this  may  well  be  matter  of  doubt.  Over- 
head, in  the  ceiling,  was  a  round  entablature,  presenting  a  faded 
coronet  over  the  defaced  outline  of  a  shield.  A  similar  object 
adorned  the  ceiling  of  the  lobby  in  the  second  flpor,  but  in 
better  preservation,  as  the  shield  bore  \\\x^^fleiirs  de  lis,  with  the 
coronet  above,  and  the  letters  H.  R.  below.  There  was  a  third 
of  these  entablatures,  containing  the  arms  of  the  city  of  Edin- 
burgh, in  the  centre  of  the  top  of  the  staircase.  The  only  other 
curious  object  in  this  part  of  the  mansion  was  the  door  of  one 
of  the  wretched  apartments — a  specimen  of  carving,  bearing  all 
the  appearance  of  having  been  contemporary  with  the  building, 
and  containing,  besides  other  devices,  bust  portraits  of  a  gentle- 
man and  lady.  This  is  now  in  the  possession  of  the  Society  of 
the  Antiquaries  of  Scotland. 

A  portion  of  the  same  building,  accessible  by  a  stair  nearer 
the  head  of  the  close,  contained  a  hall-like  apartment,  with 
other  apartments,  all  remarkable  for  their  unusually  lofty  ceilings. 
In  the  large  room  were  the  remains  of  a  spacious  decorated 
chimney,  to  which,  in  the  recollection  of  persons  still  living, 
there  had  been  attached  a  chain,  serving  to  confine  the  tongs  to 
their  proper  domain.  This  was  the  memorial  of  an  old  custom, 
of  which  it  is  not  easy  to  see  the  utility,  unless  some  light  be 
held  as  thrown  upon  it  by  a  Scottish  proverb,  used  when  a  child 
takes  a  thing  and  says  he  found  it :  '  You  found  it,  I  suppose, 
where  the  Highlandman  found  the  tongs.'     In  the  centre  of. 


HOUSE  OF  MARY  DE  GUISE.  35 

almost  all  the  ceilings  of  this  part  of  the  mansion  I  found,  in 
1824,  circular  entablatures,  with  coats  of  arms  and  other  devices, 
in  stucco,  evidently  of  good  workmanship,  but  obscured  by- 
successive  coats  of  whitening. 

The  place  pointed  out  by  tradition  as  the  queen-regent's 
oratory  was  in  the  first  floor  of  the  building  opposite — a  spacious 
and  lofty  hall,  with  large  ^vindows  designed  to  make  up  for  the 
obscurity  of  the  close.  Here,  besides  a  finely  carved  piscina, 
was  a  pretty  large  recess,  of  Gothic  structure,  in  the  back-wall, 
evidently  designed  for  keeping  things  of  importance.  Many 
years  ago,  out  of  the  wall  behind  this  recess,  there  had  been 
taken  a  small  iron  box,  such  as  might  have  been  employed  to 
keep  jewellery,  but  empty.  I  was  the  means  of  its  being  gifted 
to  Sir  Walter  Scott,  who  had  previously  told  me  that  '  a  passion 
for  such  little  boxes  was  one  of  those  that  most  did  beset  him  ; ' 
and  it  is  now  in  the  collection  at  Abbotsford. 

The  other  portions  of  the  mansion,  accessible  from  different 
alleys,  were  generally  similar  to  these,  but  somewhat  finer.  One 
chamber  was  recognised  as  the  Deid-room;  that  is,  the  room 
where  individuals  of  the  queen's  establishment  were  kept  between 
their  death  and  burial. 

It  was  interesting  to  wander  through  the  dusky  mazes  of  this 
ancient  building,  and  reflect  that  they  had  been  occupied  three 
centuries  ago  by  a  sovereign  princess,  and  one  of  the  most 
illustrious  lineage.  Here  was  the  substantial  monument  of  a 
connection  between  France  and  Scotland,  a  totally  past  state  of 
things.  She  whose  ancestors  owned  Lorraine  as  a  sovereignty, 
who  had  spent  her  youth  in  the  proud  halls  of  the  Guises  in 
Picardy,  and  been  the  spouse  of  a  Longueville,  was  here  content 
to  live — in  a  dose  in  Edinburgh  !  In  these  obscurities,  too,  was 
a  government  conducted,  which  had  to  struggle  with  Knox, 
Glencaim,  James  Stewart,  Morton,  and  many  other  powerful 
men,  backed  by  a  popular  sentiment  which  never  fails  to 
triumph.  It  was  the  misfortune  of  Mary  to  be  placed  in  a 
position  to  resist  the  E^eformation.  Her  own  character  deserved 
that  she  should  have  stood  in  a  more  agreeable  relation  to  what 


$6  TRADITIONS   OF  EDINBURGH. 

Scotland  now  venerates,  for  she  was  mild  and  just,  and  sincerely 
anxious  for  the  good  of  her  adopted  country.  It  is  also  proper 
to  remember  on  the  present  occasion,  that  '  in  her  court  she 
maintained  a  decent  gravity,  nor  would  she  tolerate  any  licen- 
tious practices  therein.  Her  maids  of  honour  were  always 
busied  in  commendable  exercises,  she  herself  being  an  example 
to  them  in  virtue,  piety,  and  modesty.'  *  When  all  is  considered, 
and  we  further  know  that  the  building  was  strong  enough  to 
have  lasted  many  more  ages,  one  cannot  but  regret  that  the 
palace  of  Mary  de  Guise,  reduced  as  it  was  to  vileness,  should 
not  now  be  in  existence.  The  site  having  been  purchased 
by  individuals  connected  with  the  Free  Church,  the  buildings 
were  removed  in  1846,  to  make  room  for  the  erection  of  an 
academical  institution  or  college  for  the  use  of  that  body. 


THE   WEST   BOW. 

The  Bowhead — Weigh-house — Anderson's  Pills — Oratories — Colonel  Gar- 
diner— '  Bowhead  Saints ' — '  The  Seizers ' — Story  of  a  Jacobite  Canary — 
Major  Weir — Tulzies — The  Tinklarian  Doctor — Old  Assembly  Room — 
Paul  Romieu — '  He  that  Tholes  Overcomes ' — Provost  Stewart — Donald- 
sons the  Booksellers — Bowfoot — The  Templars'  Lands — The  Gallows 
'  Stone. 

[supposed  to  be  written  in  1822.] 

In  a  central  part  of  Old  Edinburgh — the  very  Little  Britain 
of  our  city — is  a  curious,  angular,  whimsical-looking  street,  of 
great  steepness  and  narrowness,  called  the  West  Bow.  Serving 
as  a  connection  between  the  Grassmarket  and  Lawnmarket, 
between  the  Low  and  the  High  Town,  it  is  of  considerable  fame 
in  our  city  annals  as  a  passage  for  the  entry  of  sovereigns,  and 
the  scene  of  the  quaint  ceremonials  used  on  those  occasions. 
In  more  modem  times,  it  has  been  chiefly  notable  in  the 
recollections    of    country-people   as   a  nest   of  the  peculiarly 

*  Keith's  History. 


THE   WEST   BOW. 


37 


noisy  tradesmen,  the  white-iron  smiths,  which  causes  Robert 
Fergusson  to  mark,  as  one  of  the  features  of  Edinburgh  deserted 
for  a  holiday  : 

'  The  tinkler  billies  *  o'  the  Bow  ^ 

Are  now  less  eident  +  clinkin.' 

Another  remarkable  circumstance  connected  with  the  street  in 
the  popular  mind,  is  its  having  been  the  residence  of  the  famed 
wizard,  Major  Weir.  All  of  these  particulars  serve  to  make  it  a 
noteworthy  sort  of  place,  and  the  impression  is  much  favoured 
by  its  actual  appearance.     A  perfect  Z  in  figure,  composed  of 


The  Bowhead. 


tall  antique  houses,  with  numerous  dovecot-like  gables  projecting 
over  the  footway,  full  of  old  inscriptions  and  sculpturings, 
presenting  at  every  few  steps  some  darksome  lateral  profundity, 
into  which  the  imagination  wanders  without  hindrance  or  ex- 
haustion, it  seems  eminently  a  place  of  old  grandmothers'  tales, 


*  Fellows. 


t  Busy. 


38     .  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

and  sure  at  all  times  to  maintain  a  ghost  or  two  in  its  community. 
When  I  descend  into  particulars,  it  will  be  seen  what  grounds 
there  truly  are  for  such  a  surmise. 
To  begin  with 

THE   BOWHEAD. 

This  is  a  comparatively  open  space,  though  partially  straitened 
again  by  the  insertion  in  it  of  a  clumsy  detached  old  building 
called  the  Weigh-house,  where  enormous  masses  of  butter  and 
cheese  are  continually  getting  disposed  of  Prince  Charles  had 
his  guard  at  the  Weigh-house  when  blockading  the  Castle ;  using, 
however,  for  this  purpose,  not  the  house  itself,  but  a  floor  of 
the  adjacent  tall  tenement  in  the  Lawnmarket,  which  appears  to 
have  been  selected  on  a  very  intelligible  principle,  in  as  far  as 
it  was  the  deserted  mansion  of  one  of  the  city  clergy,  the  same 
Rev.  George  Logan  who  carried  on  a  controversy  with  Thomas 
Ruddiman,  in  which  he  took  unfavourable  views  of  the  title  of 
the  Stuart  family  to  the  throne,  not  only  then,  but  at  any  time. 
It  was,  no  doubt,  as  an  additional  answer  to  a  bad  pamphlet 
that  the  Highlanders  took  up  their  quarters  at  Mr  Logan's. 

Anderson's  pills. 

In  this  tall  la?id,  dated  1690,  there  is  a  house  on  the  second 
floor  where  that  venerable  drug,  Dr  Anderson's  pills,  is  sold, 
and  has  been  so  for  above  a  century.  As  is  well  known,  the 
country-people  in  Scotland  have  to  this  day  a  peculiar  reverence 
for  these  pills,  which  are,  I  believe,  really  a  good  form  of  aloetic 
medicine.  They  took  their  origin  from  a  physician  of  the  time 
of  Charles  L,  who  gave  them  his  name.  From  his  daughter, 
Lillias  Anderson,  the  patent  came  to  a  person  designed  Thomas 
Weir,  who  left  it  to  his  daughter.  The  widow  of  this  last 
person's  nephew,  Mrs  Irving,  is  now  the  patentee ;  a  lady  of 
advanced  age,  who  facetiously  points  to  the  very  brief  series  of 
proprietors  intervening  between  Dr  Anderson  and  herself,  as  no 
inexpressive  indication  of  the  virtue  of  the  medicine.  [Mrs 
Irving  died  in  1837,  at  the  age  of  ninety-nine.]     Portraits  of 


Anderson's  pills.  39 

Anderson  and  his  daughter  are  preserved  in  this  house :  the 
physician  in  a  Vandyke  dress,  with  a  book  in  his  band ;  the 
lady  a  precise-looking  dame,  with  a  pill  in  her  hand  about  the 
size  of  a  walnut,  saying  a  good  deal  for  the  stomachs  of  our 
ancestors.  The  people  also  shew  a  glove  which  belonged  to 
the  learned  physician. 

[1868. — In  1829,  Mrs  Irving  lived  in  a  neat,  self-contained 
mansion  in  Chessels's  Court,  in  the  Canongate,  along  with  her 
son,  General  Irving,  and  some  members  of  his  family.  The  old 
lady,  then  ninety-one,  was  good  enough  to  invite  me  to  dinner, 
when  I  likewise  found  two  younger  sisters  of  hers,  respectively 
eighty-nine  and  ninety.  She  sat  firm  and  collected  at  the  head 
of  the  table,  and  carved  a  leg  of  mutton  with,  perfect  propriety. 
She  then  told  me,  at  her  son's  request,  that,  in  the  year  1745, 
when  Prince  Charles's  army  was  in  possession  of  the  town,  she, 
a  child  of  four  years,  walked  with  her  nurse  to  Holyrood  Palace, 
and  seeing  a  Highland  gentleman  standing  in  the  doorway,  she 
went  up  to  him  to  examine  his  peculiar  attire.  She  even  took 
the  liberty  of  lifting  up  his  kilt  a  little  way ;  whereupon  her 
nurse,  fearing  some  danger,  started  forward  for  her  protection. 
But  the  gentleman  only  patted  her  head,  and  said  something 
kind  to  her.  I  felt  it  as  very  curious  to  sit  as  guest  with  a 
person  who  had  mingled  in  the  Forty-five.  But  my  excitement 
was  brought  to  a  higher  pitch  when,  on  ascending  to  the 
drawing-room,  I  found  the  general's  daughter,  a  pretty  young 
woman  recently  married,  sitting  there,  dressed  in  a  suit  of 
clothes  belonging  to  one  of  the  nonogenarian  aunts — a  very  fine 
one  of  flowered  satin,  with  elegant  cap  and  lappets,  and  silk 
shoes  three  inches  deep  in  the  heel — the  same  having  been  worn 
by  the  venerable  owner  just  seventy  years  before  at  a  Hunters' 
Ball  at  Holyrood  Palace.  The  contrast  between  the  former 
and  the  present  wearer — the  old  lady  shrunk  and  taciturn,  and 
her  young  representative  full  of  life,  and  resplendent  in  joyous 
beauty — had  an  effect  upon  me  which  it  would  be  impossible  to 
describe.  To  this  day,  I  look  upon  the  Chessels's  Court  dinner 
as  one  of  the  most  extraordinary  events  in  my  life.] 


40  TRADITIONS   OF  EDINBURGH. 

ORATORIES — COLONEL   GARDINER. 

This  house  presents  a  feature  which  forms  a  curious  memorial 
of  the  manners  of  a  past  age.  In  common  with  all  the  houses 
built  from  about  1690  to  1740 — a  substantial  class,  still  abund- 
ant in  the  High  Street — there  is  at  the  end  of  each  row  of 
windows  corresponding  to  a  separate  mansion,  a  narrow  slit-like 
window,  such  as  might  suffice  for  a  closet.  In  reality,  each  of 
these  narrow  apertures  gives  light  to  a  small  cell — much  too 
small  to  require  such  a  window — usually  entering  from  the 
dining-room,  or  some  other  principal  apartment.  The  use  of 
these  cells  was  to  serve  as  a  retreat  for  the  master  of  the  house, 
wherein  he  might  perform  his  devotions.  The  father  of  a 
family  was  in  those  days  a  sacred  kind  of  person,  not  to  be 
approached  by  wife  or  children^  too  familiarly,  and  expected  to 
be  a  priest  in  his  own  household.  Besides  his  family  devotions, 
he  retired  to  a  closet  for  perhaps  an  hour  each  day,  to  utter  his 
own  prayers ;  *  and  so  regular  was  the  custom,  that  it  gave  rise, 
as  we  see,  to  this  peculiarity  in  house-building.  Nothing  could 
enable  us  more  clearly  to  appreciate  that  strong  outward  demon- 
stration of  religious  feeling  which  pervaded  the  nation  for  half 
a  century  after  the  agonies  of  '  the  Persecution.'  I  cannot  help 
here  mentioning  the  interest  with  which  I  have  visited  Bankton 
House,  in  East  Lothian,  where,  as  is  well  known,  Colonel 
Gardiner  spent  several  years  of  his  life.  The  oratory  of  the 
pious  soldier  is  pointed  out  by  tradition,  and  it  forms  even  3, 
more  expressive  memorial  of  the  time  than  the  closets  in  the 
Edinburgh  houses.  Connected  with  a  small  front  room,  which 
might  have  been  a  library  or  study,  is  a  little  recess,  such  as 
dust-pans  and  brooms  are  kept  in,  consisting  of  the  angular 
space  formed  by  a  stair  which  passes  overhead  to  the  upper 
floor.  This  place  is  wholly  without  light,  yet  it  is  said  to  have 
been  the  place  sacred   to  poor  Gardiner's  private  devotions. 

*  Not  improbably  this  was  done  in  a  spirit  of  literal  obedience  to  the  injunction  (Matthew 
vi.  6) :  '  Thou,  when  thou  prayest,  enter  into  thy  closet.'  Commentators  on  this  passage 
mention  that  every  Jewish  house  had  a  place  of  secret  devotion  built  over  the  porch. 


BOWHEAD   SAINTS — SEIZERS.  4 1 

What  leaves  hardly  any  doubt  on  the  matter  is,  that  there  has 
been  a  wooden  bolt  within,  capable  only  of  being  shot  from  the 
inside,  and  therefore  unquestionably  used  by  a  person  desiring 
to  shut  himself  in.  Here,  therefore,  in  this  darksome,  stifling 
little  cell,  had  this  extraordinary  man  spent  hours  in  those 
devotional  exercises  by  which  he  was  so  much  distinguished 
from  his  class.* 

BOWHEAD    SAINTS — SEIZERS — A  JACOBITE   BLACK-BIRD. 

In  the  latter  part  of  the  seventeenth  century,  the  inhabitants 
of  the  West  Bow  enjoyed  a  peculiar  fame  for  their  piety  and 
zeal  in  the  Covenanting  cause.  The  wits  of  the  opposite  faction 
are  full  of  allusions  to  them  as  '  the  Bowhead  Saints,'  '  the  godly 
plants  of  the  Bowhead,'  and  so  forth.  [This  is  the  basis  of  an 
allusion  by  a  later  Cavalier  wit,  when  describing  the  exit  of 
Lord  Dundee  from  Edinburgh,  on  the  occasion  of  the  settle- 
ment of  the  crown  upon  William  and  Mary : 

'  As  he  rode  down  the  sanctified  bends  of  the  Bow, 
Ilka  carline  was  flyting,  and  shaking  her  pow ; 
But  some  young  plants  of  grace,  that  looked  couthie  and  slie, 
Said  :  "Luck  to  thy  bonnet,  thou  bonnie  Dundee  !'" 

It  is  to  be  feared  that  Sir  Walter  has  here  shewn  a  relenting, 
towards  the  'young  plants,'  for  which  they  would  not  have 
thanked  him.]  All  the  writings  of  the  wits  of  their  own  time 
speak  of  the  system  to  which  they  were  opposed  as  one  of 
unmitigated  sternness.  It  was  in  those  days  a  custom  to  patrol 
the  streets  during  the  time  of  divine  service,  and  take  into 
captivity  all  persons  found  walking  abroad ;  and  indeed  make 
seizure  of  whatever  could  be  regarded  as  guilty  of  Sabbath- 
breaking.  It  is  said  that,  led  by  a  sneaking  sense,  the  patrol 
one  day  lighted  upon  a  joint  of  meat  in  the  course  of  being 
roasted,  and  made  prize  of  it,  leaving  the  graceless  owner  to 
chew  the  spit.  On  another  occasion,  about  the  year  1735,  a 
capture  of  a  different  kind  was  made.     '  The  people  about  that 

•  Bankton  House  has  been  burned  down  and  rebuilt  since  this  was  written. 


42  '      TRADITIONS    OF   EDINBURGH. 

time,'  says  Arnot,  'were  in  use  to  teach  their  birds  to  chant  the 
songs  of  their  party.  It  happened  that  the  black-bird  of  an 
honest  Jacobitical  barber,  which  from  his  cage  on  the  outside  of 
the  window  gave  offence  to  the  zealous  Whigs  by  his  songs, 
was  neglected,  on  a  Saturday  evening,  to  be  brought  within  the 
house.  Next  morning  he  tuned  his  pipe  to  the  usual  air.  The 
king  shall  enjoy  his  owti  again.  One  of  the  seizers,  in  his  holy 
zeal,  was  enraged  at  this  manifestation  of  impiety  and  treason  in 
one  of  the  feathered  tribe.  He  went  up  to  the  house,  seized  the 
bird  and  the  cage,  and  with  much  solemnity  lodged  them  in  the 
City-Guard.'*  Pennycook,  a  burgess  bard  of  the  time,  repre- 
sents the  officer  as  addressing  the  bird  : 

'  Had  ye  been  taught  by  me,  a  Bowhead  saint. 
You  'd  sung  the  Solemn  League  and  Covenant, 
Bessy  of  Lanark,  or  the  Last  Good-night ; 
But  you  're  a  bird  prelatic — that 's  not  right.  .  . 
Oh  could  my  baton  reach  the  laverocks  too, 
They  're  chirping  yatnie,  Jamie,  just  like  you  : 
I  hate  vain  birds  that  lead  malignant  lives. 
But  love  the  chanters  to  the  Bowhead  wives.' 

MAJOR   WEIR. 

It  must  have  been  a  sad  scandal  to  this  peculiar  community 
when  Major  Weir,  one  of  their  number,  was  found  to  have  been 
so  wretched  an  example  of  human  infirmity.  The  house 
occupied  by  this  man  still  exists,  though  in  an  altered  shape,  in 
a  little  court  accessible  by  a  narrow  passage  near  the  first  angle 
of  the  street.  His  history  is  obscurely  reported ;  but  it  appears 
that  he  was  of  a  good  family  in  Lanarkshire,  and  had  been  one 
of  the  ten  thousand  men  sent  by  the  Scottish  Covenanting 
Estates  in  1641  to  assist  in  suppressing  the  Irish  Papists.  He 
became  distinguished  for  a  life -of  peculiar  sanctity,  even  in  an 
age  when  that  was  the  prevailing  tone  of  the  public  mind. 
According  to  a  contemporary  account:  'His  garb  was  still  a 
cloak,  and  somewhat  dark,  and  he  never  went  without  his  staff. 

*  History  of  Edinburgh,  p.  205,  note. 


MAJOR  WEIR,  43 

He  was  a  tall  black  man,  and  ordinarily  looked  down  to  the 
ground;  a  grwt  countenance,  and  a  big  nose.  At  length  he 
became  so  notoriously  regarded  among  the  Presbyterian  strict 
sect,  that  if  four  met  together,  be  sure  Major  Weir  was  one. 
At  private  meetings  he  prayed  to  admiration,  which  made  many 
of  that  stamp  court  his  converse.  He  never  married,  but  lived 
in  a  private  lodging  with  his  sister,  Grizel  Weir.  Many  resorted 
to  his  house,  to  join  with  him,  and  hear  him  pray ;  but  it  was 
observed  that  he  could  not  officiate  in  any  holy  duty  without 
the  black  staff,  or  rod,  in  his  hand,  and  leaning  upon  it,  which 
made  those  who  heard  him  pray  admire  his  flood  in  prayer,  his 
ready  extemporary  expression,  his  heavenly  gesture ;  so  that  he 
was  thought  more  angel  than  man,  and  was  termed  by  some  of 
the  holy  sisters  ordinarily  Angelical  Thomas.^  Plebeian  imagina- 
tions have  since  fructified  regarding  the  staff,  and  crones  will 
still  seriously  tell  how  it  could  run  a  message  to  a  shop  for  any 
article  which  its  proprietor  wanted;  how  it  could  answer  the 
door  when  any  one  called  upon  its  master ;  and  that  it  used  to 
be  often  seen  running  before  him,  in  the  capacity  of  a  link-boy, 
as  he  walked  down  the  Lawnmarket. 

After  a  life  characterised  externally  by  all  the  graces  of 
devotion,  but  polluted  in  secret  by  crimes  of  the  most  revolting 
nature,  and  which  little  needed  the  addition  of  wizardry  to  excite 
the  horror  of  living  men.  Major  AVeir  fell  into  a  severe  sickness, 
which  affected  his  mind  so  much,  that  he  made  open  and 
voluntary  confession  of  all  his  wickedness.  The  tale  was  at  first 
so  incredible,  that  the  provost,  Sir  Andrew  Ramsay,  refused  for 
some  time  to  take  him  into  custody.  At  length  himself,  his 
sister  (partner  of  one  of  his  crimes),  and  his  staff,  were  secured 
by  the  magistrates,  together  with  certain  sums  of  money,  which 
were  found  wrapped  up  in  rags  in  different  parts  of  the  house. 
One  of  these  pieces  of  rag  being  thrown  into  the  fire  by  a  bailie 
who  had  taken  the  whole  in  charge,  flew  up  the  chimney,  and 
made  an  explosion  like  a  cannon.  While  the  wretched  man  lay 
in  prison,  he  made  no  scruple  to  disclose  the  particulars  of  his 
guilt,  but  refused  to  address  himself  to  the  Almighty  for  pardon. 


44  TRADITIONS   OF  EDINBURGH. 

To  every  request  that  he  would  pray,  he  answered  in  screams : 
'Torment  me  no  more — I  am  tormented  enough  already!' 
Even  the  offer  of  a  Presbyterian  clergyman,  instead  of  an 
established  Episcopal  minister  of  the  city,  had  no  efifect  upon 
him.  He  was  tried  April  9,  1670,  and  being  found  guilty,  was 
sentenced  to  be  strangled  and  burnt  between  Edinburgh  and 
Leith.  His  sister,  who  was  tried  at  the  same  time,  was 
sentenced  to  be  hanged  in  the  Grassmarket.  The  execution  of 
the  profligate  major  took  place,  April  14,  at  the  place  indicated 
by  the  judge.  When  the  rope  was  about  his  neck,  to  prepare 
him  for  the  fire,  he  was  bid  to  say :  '  Lord,  be  merciful  to  me  !' 
but  he  answered,  as  before :  '  Let  me  alone — I  will  not — I  have 
lived  as  a  beast,  and  I  must  die  as  a  beast ! '  After  he  had 
dropped  lifeless  in  the  flames,  his  stick  was  also  cast  into  the 
fire;  and,  'whatever  incantation  was  ia  it,'  says  the  contem- 
porary writer  already  quoted,*  '  the  persons  present  own  that  it 
gave  rare  turnings,  and  was  long  a-buming,  as  also  himself.' 

The  conclusion  to  which  the  humanity  of  the  present  age 
would  come  regarding  Weir — that  he  was  mad — is  favoured  by 
some  circumstances ;  for  instance,  his  answering  one  who  asked 
if  he  had  ever  seen  the  devil,  that  '  the  only  feeling  he  ever  had 
of  him  was  in  the  dark.'  What  chiefly  countenances  the  idea,  is 
the  unequivocal  lunacy  of  the  sister.  This  miserable  woman 
confessed  to  witchcraft,  and  related,  in  a  serious  manner,  many 
things  which  could  not  be  true.  Many  years  before,  a  fiery 
coach,  she  said,  had  come  to  her  brother's  door  in  broad  day, 
and  a  stranger  invited  them  to  enter,  and  they  proceeded  to 
Dalkeith.  On  the  way,  another  person  came  and  whispered  in 
her  brother's  ear  something  which  afi"ected  him ;  it  proved  to  be 
supernatural  intelligence  of  the  defeat  of  the  Scotch  army  at 
Worcester,  which  took  place  that  day.  Her  brother's  power, 
she  said,  lay  in  his  stafi".  She  also  had  a  gift  for  spinning  above 
other  women,  but  the  yam  broke  to  pieces  in  the  loom.  Her 
mother,  she  declared,  had  been  also  a  vntch.     'The  secretest 

*  The  Rev.  Mr  Frazer,  minister  of  Wardlaw,  in  his  Divine  Providewes  (MS.  Adv.  Lib.), 
dated  1670. 


MAJOR  WEIR.  45 

thing  that  I,  or  any  of  the  family  could  do,  when  once  a  mark 
appeared  upon  her  brow,  she  could  tell  it  them,  though  done  at 
a  great  distance.'  This  mark  could  also  appear  on  her  own 
forehead  when  she  pleased.  At  the  request  of  the  company 
present,  'she  put  back  her  head-dress,  and  seeming  to  fro^vn, 
there  was  an  exact  horse-shoe  shaped  for  nails  in  her  wrinkles, 
terrible  enough,  I  assure  you,  to  the  stoutest  beholder.'*  At 
the  place  of  execution  she  acted  in  a  furious  manner,  and  with 
difficulty  could  be  prevented  from  throwing  off  her  clothes,  in 
order  to  die,  as  she  said,  'with  all  the  shame  she  could.' 

The  treatise  just  quoted  makes  it  plain  that  the  case  of  Weir 
and  his  sister  had  immediately  become  a  fruitful  theme  for  the 
imaginations  of  the  vulgar.  We  there  receive  the  following 
story :  '  Some  few  days  before  he  discovered  himself,  a  gentle- 
woman coming  from  the  Castle-hill,  where  her  husband's  niece 
was  lying-in  of  a  child,  about  midnight  perceived  about  the 
Bowhead  three  women  in  windows  shouting,  laughing,  and 
clapping  their  hands.  The  gentlewoman  went  forward,  till,  at 
Major  Weir's  door,  there  arose,  as  from  the  street,  a  woman 
about  the  length  of  two  ordinary  females,  and  stepped  forward. 
The  gentlewoman,  not  as  yet  excessively  feared,  bid  her  maid 
step  on,  if  by  the  lantern  they  could  see  what  she  was;  but 
haste  what  they  could,  this  long-legged  spectre  was  still  before 
them,  moving  her  body  with  a  vehement  cachinnation  and  great 
unmeasurable  laughter.  At  this  rate  the  two  strove  for  place, 
till  the  giantess  came  to  a  narrow  lane  in  the  Bow,  commonly 
called  the  Stinking  Close,  into  which  she  turning,  and  the  gentle- 
woman looking  after  her,  perceived  the  close  full  of  flaming 
torches  (she  could  give  them  no  other  name),  and  as  if  it  had 
been  a  great  number  of  people  stentoriously  laughing,  and  gaping 
with  tahees  of  laughter.  This  sight,  at  so  dead  a  time  of  night, 
no  people  being  in  the  windows  belonging  to  the  close,  made 
her  and  her  servant  haste  home,  declaring  all  that  they  saw  to 
the  rest  of  the  family.' 

For   upwards    of  a  century   after   Major  Weir's  death,   he 

*  Satan's  Invisible  World  Discovered. 


46  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

continued  to  be  the  bugbear  of  the  Bow,  and  his  house  remained 
uninhabited.  His  apparition  was  frequently  seen  at  night,  flit- 
ting, hke  a  black  and  silent  shadow,  about  the  street.  His  house, 
though  known  to  be  deserted  by  everything  human,  was  some- 
times observed  at  midnight  to  be  full  of  lights,  and  heard  to 
emit  strange  sounds,  as  of  dancing,  howling,  and,  what  is 
strangest  of  all,  spinning.  Some  people  occasionally  saw  the 
major  issue  from  the  low  close  at  midnight,  mounted  on  a  black 
horse  without  a  head,  and  gallop  off  in  a  whirlwind  of  flame. 
Nay,  sometimes  the  whole  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  Bow  would 
be  roused  from  their  sleep  at  an  early  hour  in  the  morning  by 
the  sound  as  of  a  coach  and  six,  first  rattling  up  the  Lawn- 
market,  and  then  thundering  down  the  Bow,  stopping  at  the 
head  of  the  terrible  close  for  a  few  minutes,  and  then  rattling 
and  thundering  back  again — being  neither  more  nor  less  than 
Satan  come  in  one  of  his  best  equipages  to  take  home  the  major 
and  his  sister,  after  they  had  spent  a  night's  leave  of  absence  in 
their  terrestrial  dwelling. 

About  fifty  years  ago,  when  the  shades  of  superstition  began 
universally  to  give  way  in  Scotland,  Major  Weir's  house  came  to 
be  regarded  with  less  terror  by  the  neighbours,  and  an  attempt 
was  made  by  the  proprietor  to  find  a  person  who  should  be  bold 
enough  to  inhabit  it.  Such  a  person  was  procured  in  William 
Patullo,  a  poor  man  of  dissipated  habits,  who,  having  been  at 
one  time  a  soldier  and  a  traveller,  had  come  to  disregard  in  a 
great  measure  the  superstitions  of  his  native  country,  and  was 
now  glad  to  possess  a  house  upon  the  low  terms  offered  by  the 
landlord,  at  whatever  risk.  Upon  its  being  known  that  Major 
Weir's  house  was  about  to  be  reinhabited,  a  great  deal  of  curiosity 
was  felt  by  people  of  all  ranks  as  to  the  result  of  the  experiment ; 
for  there  was  scarcely  a  native  of  the  city  who  had  not  felt,  since 
his  boyhood,  an  intense  interest  in  all  that  concerned  that  awful 
fabric,  and  yet  remembered  the  numerous  terrible  stories  which 
he  had  heard  respecting  it.  Even  before  entering  upon  his 
hazardous  undertaking,  William  Patullo  was  looked  upon  with 
a  flattering  sort  of  interest,  similar  to  that  which  we  feel  respecting 


MAJOR   WEIR.  47 

a  regiment  on  the  march  to  active  conflict.  It  was  the  hope  of 
many  that  he  would  be  the  means  of  retrieving  a  valuable 
possession  from  the  dominion  of  darkness.  But  Satan  soon  let 
them  know  that  he  does  not  tamely  relinquish  any  of  the  out- 
posts of  his  kingdom. 

On  the  very  first  night  after  PatuUo  and  his  spouse  had  taken 
up  their  abode  in  the  house,  as  the  worthy  couple  were  lying 
awake  in  their  bed,  not  unconscious  of  a  certain  degree  of  fear 
— a  dim  uncertain  light  proceeding  from  the  gathered  embers  of 
their  fire,  and  all  being  silent  around  them — they  suddenly  saw 
a  form  like  that  of  a  calf,  which  came  forward  to  the  bed,  and, 
setting  its  fore-feet  upon  the  stock,  looked  steadfastly  at  the 
unfortunate  pair.  When  it  had  contemplated  them  thus  for  a 
few  minutes,  to  their  great  relief  it  at  length  took  itself  away, 
and,  slowly  retiring,  gradually  vanished  from  their  sight.  As 
might  be  expected,  they  deserted  the  house  next  morning ;  and 
for  another  half  century  no  other  attempt  was  made  to  embank 
tliis  part  of  the  world  of  light  from  the  aggressions  of  the  world 
of  darkness. 

It  may  here  be  mentioned  that,  at  no  very  remote  time,  there 
were  several  houses  in  the  Old  Town  which  had  the  credit  of 
being  haunted.  It  is  said  there  is  one  at  this  day  in  the  Lawn- 
market  (a  flat),  which  has  been  shut  up  from  time  immemorial. 
The  story  goes  that  one  night,  as  preparations  were  making  for 
a  supper-party,  something  occurred  which  obliged  the  family,  as 
well  as  all  the  assembled  guests,  to  retire  with  precipitation, 
and  lock  up  the  house.  From  that  night  it  has  never  once  been 
opened,  nor  was  any  of  the  furniture  withdra\vn  :  the  very  goose 
which  was  undergoing  the  process  of  being  roasted  at  the  time 
of  the  occurrence,  is  still  at  the  fire  !  No  one  knows  to  whom 
the  house  belongs;  no  one  ever  inquires  after  it;  no  one  living 
ever  saw  the  inside  of  it ;  it  is  a  condemned  house  !  There  is 
something  peculiarly  dreadful  about  a  house  under  these  circum- 
stances. What  sights  of  horror  might  present  themselves  if  it 
were  entered  !  Satan  is  the  -ultitnus  hares  of  all  such  unclaimed 
property ! 


48  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

Besides  the  many  old  houses  that  are  haunted,  there  are  several 
endowed  with  the  simple  credit  of  having  been  the  scenes  of 
murders  and  suicides.  Some  contain  rooms  which  had  particular 
names  commemorative  of  such  events,  and  these  names,  handed 
down  as  they  had  been  from  one  generation  to  another,  usually 
suggested  the  remembrance  of  some  dignified  Scottish  families, 
probably  the  former  tenants  of  the  houses.  There  is  a  common- 
stair  in  the  Lawnmarket,  which  was  supposed  to  be  haunted  by 
the  ghost  of  a  gentleman  who  had  been  mysteriously  killed, 
about  a  century  ago,  in  open  daylight,  as  he  was  ascending  to 
his  own  house :  the  affair  was  called  to  mind  by  old  people  on 
the  similar  occasion  of  the  murder  of  Begbie.  A  deserted  house 
in  Mary  King's  Close  (behind  the  Royal  Exchange),  is  believed 
by  some  to  have  met  with  that  fate  for  a  very  fearful  reason. 
The  inhabitants  at  a  remote  period  were,  it  is  said,  compelled 
to  abandon  it  by  the  supernatural  appearances  which  took  place 
in  it  on  the  very  first  night  after  they  had  made  it  their  residence. 
At  midnight,  as  the  good-man  was  sitting  -svith  his  wife  by  the 
fire  reading  his  Bible,  and  intending  immediately  to  go  to  bed, 
a  strange  dimness  which  suddenly  fell  upon  his  light  caused  him 
to  raise  his  eyes  from  the  book.  He  looked  at  the  candle,  and 
saw  it  burning  blue.  Terror  took  possession  of  his  frame. 
Turning  away  his  eyes,  there  was,  directly  before  him,  and 
apparently  not  two  yards  off,  the  head  as  of  a  dead  person, 
looking  him  straight  in  the  face.  There  was  nothing  but  a  head, 
though  that  seemed  to  occupy  the  precise  situation  in  regard  to 
the  floor  which  it  might  have  done  had  it  been  supported  by  a 
body  of  the  ordinary  stature.  The  man  and  his  wife  fainted 
with  terror.  On  awaking,  darkness  pervaded  the  room.  Presently 
the  door  opened,  and  in  came  a  hand  holding  a  candle.  This 
came  and  stood — that  is,  the  body  supposed  to  be  attached  to 
the  hand  stood — beside  the  table,  whilst  the  terrified  pair  saw 
two  or  three  couples  of  feet  skip  along  the  floor,  as  if  dancing. 
The  scene  lasted  a  short  time,  but  vanished  quite  away  upon 
the  man  gathering  strength  to  invoke  the  protection  of  Heaven. 
The  house  was  of  course  abandoned,  and  remained  ever  after- 


TULZIES.  49 

wards  shut  up.     Such  were  grandams'  tales  at  no  remote  period 
in  our  northern  capital : 

*  Where  Learning,  -with  his  eagle  eyes, 
Seeks  Science  in  her  coy  abode.' 


TULZIES. 

At  the  Bowhead  there  happened,  in  the  year  1596,  a  combat 
between  James  Johnston  of  Westerhall  and  a  gentleman  of  the 
house  of  Somerville,  which  is  thus  related  in  that  curious  book, 
the  Memorie  of  the  Somervills. 

'The  other  actione  wherin  Westerhall  was  concerned  happened 
three  years  thereftir  in  Edinburgh,  and  was  only  personal  on  the 
same  account,  betwext  Westerhall  and  Bread  (Broad)  Hugh 
Somervill  of  the  Writes.  This  gentleman  had  often  formerly 
foughten  with  Westerhall  upon  equal  termes,  and  being  now  in 
Edinburgh  about  his  privat  affaires,  standing  at  the  head  of  the 
West  Bow,  Westerhall  by  accident  comeing  up  the  same,  some 
officious  and  unhappy  fellow  says  to  Westerhall :  "  There  is 
Bread  Hugh  Somervill  of  the  Writes."  Whereupon  Westerhall, 
fancying  he  stood  there  either  to  waitt  him,  or  out  of  contempt, 
he  immediately  marches  up  with  his  sword  drawen,  and  with  the 
opening  of  his  mouth,  crying:  "  Tume,  villane;"  he  cuttes 
Writes  in  the  hint  head  a  deep  and  sore  wound,  the  fouUest 
stroak  that  ever  Westerhall  was  knoune  to  give,  acknowledged 
soe,  and  much  regrated  eftirwards  by  himself.  Writes  finding 
himself  strucken  and  wounded,  seeing  Westerhall  (who  had  not 
offered  to  double  his  stroak),  drawes,  g,nd  within  a  short  tyme 
puttes  Westerhall  to  the  defensive  part ;  for  being  the  taller  man, 
and  one  of  the  strongest  of  his  time,  with  the  advantage  of  the 
hill,  he  presses  him  sore.  Westerhall  reteires  by  little,  traverseing 
the  breadth  of  the  Bow,  to  gain  the  advantage  of  the  ascent,  to 
supply  the  defect  of  nature,  being  of  low  stature,  which  Writes 
observeing,  keepes  closse  to  him,  and  beares  him  in  front,  that 
he  might  not  quyte  what  good-fortune  and  nature  had  given  him. 
Thus  they  continued  neer  a  quarter  of  ane  hour,  clearing  the 


5©  TRADITIONS   OF  EDINBURGH. 

callsay,*  so  that  in  all  the  strait  Bow  there  was  not  one  to  be 
seen  without  their  shop  doores,  neither  durst  any  man  attempt 
to  red  them,  every  stroak  of  their  swords  threatening  present 
death  both  to  themselves  and  others  that  should  come  neer 
them.  Haveing  now  come  from  the  head  of  the  Bow  neer  to 
the  foot  thereof,  Westerhall  being  in  a  pair  of  black  buites, 
which  for  ordinary  he  wore  closse  drawen  up,  was  quyte  tyred. 
Therefore  he  stepes  back  within  a  shop  doore,  and  stood  upon 
his  defence.  The  very  last  stroak  that  Writes  gave  went  neei 
to  have  brocken  his  broad  sword  in  peaces,  haveing  hitt  the 
lintell  of  the  door,  the  marke  whereof  remained  there  a  long 
•  tyme.  Thereftir,  the  toune  being  by  this  tyme  all  in  ane  uproar, 
,  the  halbertiers  comeing  to  seaze  upon  them,  they  wer  separated 
and  privatly  convoyed  to  ther  chambers,  Ther  wounds  but 
slight,  except  that  which  Writes  had  upon  his  head  proved  very 
dangerous ;  for  ther  was  many  bones  taken  out  of  it ;  however, 
at  lenth,  he  was  perfectly  cured,  and  the  parties  themselves, 
eftir  Hugh  Lord  Somerville's  death,  reconcealled,  and  all  injuries 
forgotten.' 

In  times  of  civil  war,  personal  rencontres  of  this  kind,  and 
even  skirmishes  between  bands  of  armed  men — usually  called 
tulzies — were  of  no  unfrequent  occurrence  upon  the  streets  of 
Edinburgh.  They  abounded  during  the  troublous  time  of  the 
minority  of  James  VI.  On  the  24th  of  November  1567,  the 
Laird  of  Airth  and  the  Laird  of  Wemyss  met  upon  the  High 
Street,  and,  together  with  their  followers,  fought  a  bloody  battle, 
*  many,'  as  Birrel  the  chronicler  reports,  '  being  hurte  on  both 
sides  by  shote  of  pistoll.'  Three  days  afterwards  there  was  a 
strict  proclamation,  forbidding  '  the  wearing  of  guns  or  pistolls, 
or  aney  sick-like  fyerwork  ingyne,  under  ye  paine  of  death,  the 
king's  guards  and  shouldours  only  excepted.'  This  circumstance 
seems  to  be  referred  to  in  The  Abbot,  where  the  Regent  Murray, 
in  allusion  to  Lord  Seyton's  rencontre  with  the  Leslies,  in  which 
Roland  Grseme  had  borne  a  distinguished  part,  says :  *  These 

•  The  causeway.    A  skirmish  fought  between  the  Hamiltons  and  Douglases,  upon  the 
High  Street  of  Edinburgh,  in  the  year  1515,  was  popularly  termed  Cleanse  the  Causeway. 


TULZIES.  51 

broils  and  feuds  would  shame  the  capital  of  the  Great  Turk,  let 
alone  that  of  a  Christian  and  reformed  state.  But  if  I  live,  this 
gear  shall  be  amended ;  and  men  shall  say,'  &c. 

On  ttie  30th  of  July  1588,  according  to  the  same  authority, 
Sir  William  Stewart  was  slain  in  Blackfriars  Wynd  by  the  Earl 
of  Bothwell,  who  was  the  most  famed  disturber  of  the  public 
peace  in  those  times.  The  quarrel  had  arisen  on  a  former 
occasion,  on  account  of  some  despiteful  language  used  by  Sir 
William,  when  the  fiery  earl  vowed  the  destruction  of  his  enemy 
in  words  too  shocking  to  be  repeated ;  '  sua  therafter  rancoun- 
tering  Sir  William  in  ye  Blackfriar  Wynd  by  chance,  told  him  he 
void  now  .  .  . ;  and  vith  yat  drew  his  sword ;  Sir  William  stand- 
ing to  hes  defence,  and  having  hes  back  at  ye  vail,  ye  earle  mad 
a  thrust  at  him  vith  his  raper,  and  strake  him  in  at  the  back  and 
out  at  the  belley,  and  killed  him.' 

Ten  years  thereafter,  one  Robert  Cathcart,  who  had  been 
with  the  Earl  of  Bothwell  on  this  occasion,  though  it  does 
not  appear  that  he  took  an  active  hand  in  the  murder,  was 
slain  in  revenge  by  William  Stewart,  son  of  the  deceased,  while 
standing  inoffensively  at  the  head  of  Peebles  Wynd,  near  the 
Tron. 

In  June  1605,  one  William  Thomson,  a  dagger-maker  in  the 
West  Bow,  which  was  even  then  remarkable  for  iron-working 
handicraftsmen,  was  slain  by  John  Waterstone,  a  neighbour  of 
his  own,  who  was  next  day  beheaded  on  the  Castle-hill  for  his 
crime. 

In  1640,  the  Lawnmarket  was  the  scene  of  a  personal  combat 
between  Major  Somerville,  commander  of  the  forces  then  in  the 
Castle,  devoted  to  the  Covenanting  interest  (a  relation  of  Braid 
Hugh  in  the  preceding  extract),  and  one  Captain  Crawfuird, 
which  is  related  in  the  following  picturesque  and  interesting 
manner  by  the  same  writer :  '  But  it  would  appear  this  gentleman 
conceived  his  affront  being  publict,  noe  satisfactione  acted  in  a 
private  way  could  save  his  honour ;  therefore  to  repair  the  same, 
he  resolves  to  challange  and  fight  Somervill  upon  the  High 
Street  of  Edenburgh,  and  at  such  a  tyme  when  ther  should  be 


52    ,  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

most  spectators.  In  order  to  this  designe,  he  takes  the  occasione, 
as  this  gentleman  was  betwext  ten  and  eleven  hours  in  the 
foimoon  hastily  comeing  from  the  Castle  (haveing  been  then 
sent  for  to  the  Committie  of  Estates  and  General  Leslie  anent 
some  important  busines),  to  assault  him  in  this  manner ;  Somer- 
vill  being  past  the  Weigh-house,  Captaine  Crawfuird  observeing 
him,  presentlie  steps  into  a  high  chope  upon  the  south  side  of 
the  Landmercat,  and  there  layes  by  his  cloak,  haveing  a  long 
broad  sword  and  a  large  Highland  durke  by  his  side ;  he  comes 
up  to  Somervill,  and  without  farder  ceremonie  sayes :  "  If  you 
be  a  pretty  man,  draw  your  sword;"  and  with  that  word  pulles 
out  his  oune  sword  with  the  dagger.  Somervill  at  first  was 
somewhat  stertled  at  the  impudence  and  boldnesse  of  the  man 
that  durst  soe  openly  and  avowedly  assault  him,  being  in  publict 
charge,  and  even  then  on  his  duty.  But  his  honour  and  present 
preservatione  gave  him  noe  tyme  to  consult  the  conveniency  or 
inconveniency  he  was  now  under,  either  as  to  his  present  charge 
or  disadvantage  of  weapons,  haveing  only  a  great  kaine  staff*  in 
his  hand,  which  for  ordinary  he  walked  still  with,  and  that  same 
sword  which  Generall  Rivane  had  lately  gifted  him,  being  a  half- 
rapper  sword  backed,  hinging  in  a  shoulder-belt  far  back,  as  the 
fashion  was  then,  he  was  forced  to  guaird  two  or  three  strokes 
Avith  his  kaine  before  he  got  out  his  sword,  which  being  now 
drawne,  he  soon  puts  his  adversary  to  the  defencive  part,  by 
bearing  up  soe  close  to  him,  and  putting  home  his  thrusts, 
that  the  captaine,  for  all  his  courage  and  advantage  of  weapons, 
was  forced  to  give  back,  having  now  much  adoe  to  parie  the 
redoubled  thrusts  that  Somervill  let  in  at  him,  being  now 
agoeing. 

'The  combat  (for  soe  in  effect  it  was,  albeit  accidental)  begane 
about  the  midle  of  the  Landmercat.  Somervill  drives  doune  the 
captaine,  still  fighting,  neer  to  the  goldsmiths'  chops,  where, 
fearing  to  be  nailled  to  the  boords  (these  chops  being  then  all  of 
timber),  he  resolved  by  ane  notable  blow  to  revenge  all  his 
former  affronts ;  makeing  thairfor  a  fent,  as  if  he  had  designed 

*  Cane. 


THE   TINKLARIAN   DOCTOR.  53 

at  Somervill's  right  side,  haveing  parried  his  thrust  with  his 
dagger,  he  suddenly  tumes  his  hand,  and  by  a  back-blow  with 
his  broadsword  he  thought  to  have  hamshekelled  *  him  in  one, 
if  not  both  of  his  legges,  which  Somervill  only  prevented  by 
nimbly  leaping  backward  at  the  tyme,  interposeing  the  great 
kaine  that  was  in  his  left  hand,  which  was  quyte  cut  through 
with  the  violence  of  the  blow.  And  now  Providence  soe 
ordered  it,  that  the  captaine  missing  his  mark,  overstrake  him- 
self soe  far,  that  in  tyme  he  could  not  recover  his  sword  to  a  fit 
posture  of  defence,  untill  Somervill  haveing  beaten  up  the  dagger 
that  was  in  the  captaine's  left  hand  with  the  remaineing  part  of 
his  oune  stick,  he  instantly  closes  with  him,  and  with  the  pummil 
of  his  sword  he  instantly  strikes  him  doune  to  the  ground,  where 
at  first,  because  of  his  baseness,  he  was  mynded  to  have  nailled 
him  to  the  ground,  but  that  his  heart  relented,  haveing  him  in 
his  mercy.  And  att  that  same  instant  ther  happened  several  of 
his  oune  soulders  to  come  in,  who  wer  soe  incensed,  that  they 
wer  ready  to  have  cut  the  poor  captaine  all  in  pieces,  if  he  had 
not  rescued  him  out  of  theire  hands,  and  saw  him  safely  con- 
voyed to  prisone,  where  he  was  layd  in  the  irones,  and  continued 
in  prisone  in  a  most  miserable  and  wretched  condition  somewhat 
more  than  a  year,'  t  ' 


THE   TINKLARIAN   DOCTOR. 

In  the  early  part  of  the  last  century,  the  Bowhead  was  distin- 
guished as  the  residence  of  an  odd  half-crazy  varlet  of  a  tinsmith 
named  William  Mitchell,  who  occasionally  held  forth  as  a 
preacher,  and  every  now  and  then  astounded  the  quiet  people 
of  Edinburgh  with  some  pamphlet  full  of  satirical  personalities. 
He  seems  to  have  been  altogether  a  strange  mixture  of  fanati- 
cism, humour,  and  low  cunning.  In  one  of  his  publications — a 
single  broadside,  dated  17 13 — ^he  has  a  squib  upon  the  magis- 
trates, in  the  form  of  a  kit,  or  list,  of  a  new  set,  whom  he 
proposes  to  introduce  in  their  stead.     At  the  end  he  sets  forward 

*  Hamstringed.  f  Memorie  of  the  Somervills,  vol.  ii.,  p.  271. 


54  TRADITIONS    OF   EDINBURGH. 

a  claim  on  his  own  behalf,  no  less  than  that  of  representing  the 
city  in  parliament.  In  another  of  his  prose  pieces  he  gives  a 
curious  account  of  a  journey  which  he  made  into  France,  where, 
he  affirms,  '  the  king's  court  is  six  times  bigger  than  the  king 
of  Britain's ;  his  guards  have  all  feathers  in  their  hats,  and 
their  horse-tails  are  to  their  heels;  and  their  king  [Louis 
XV.]  is  one  of  the  best-favoured  boys  that  you  can  look  upon 
— bUthe-like,  with  black  hair;  and  all  his  people  are  better 
natured  in  general  than  the  Scots  or  English,  except  the  priests. 
Their  women  seem  to  be  modest,  for  they  have  no  fardingales. 
The  greatest  wonder  I  saw  in  France,  was  to  see  the  braw 
people  fall  do\^m  on  their  knees  on  the  clarty  ground  when  the 
priest  comes  by,  carrying  the  cross,  to  give  a  sick  person  the 
sacrament' 

The  Tinklarian  Doctor,  for  such  was  his  popular  appellation, 
appears  to  have  been  fully  acquainted  with  an  ingenious 
expedient,  long  afterwards  held  in  view  by  publishers  of  juvenile 
toy-books.  As  in  certain  sage  little  histories  of  Tommy  and 
Harry,  King  Pepin,  &c.  we  are  sure  to  find  that '  the  good  boy 
who  loved  his  lessons '  always  bought  his  books  from  '  kind, 
good,  old  Mr  J.  Newberry,  at  the  corner  of  St  Paul's  Church- 
yard, where  the  greatest  assortment  of  nice  books  for  good  boys 
and  girls  is  always  to  be  had ' — so  in  the  works  of  Mr  Mitchell 
we  find  some  sly  encomium  upon  the  Tinklarian  Doctor  con- 
stantly peeping  forth ;  and  in  the  pamphlet  from  which  the 
above  extract  is  made,  he  is  not  forgetful  to  impress  his  pro- 
fessional excellence  as  a  whitesmith,  '  I  have,'  he  says,  '  a  good 
pennyworth  of  pewter  spoons,  fine,  like  silver — none  such  made 
in  Edinburgh — and  silken  pocks  for  wigs,  and  French  white 
pearl-beads ;  all  to  be  sold  for  little  or  nothing.'  Vide  '  A  part 
of  the  works  of  that  Eminent  Divine  and  Historian,  Dr  William 
Mitchell,  Professor  of  Tinklarianism  in  the  University  of  the 
BowHEAD ;  being  a  Syze  of  Divinity,  Humanity,  History,  Philo- 
sophy, Law,  and  Physick;  Composed  at  Various  Occasions  for 
his  own  Satisfaction  and  the  World's  Illumination.'  In  his 
works — all  of  which  were  adorned  with  a  cut  of  the  Mitchell 


THE  TINKLARIAN   DOCTOR.  55 

arms — he  does  not  scruple  to  make  the  personages  whom  he 
introduces  speak  of  himself  as  a  much  wiser  man  than  the  Arch- 
bishop of  Canterbury,  all  the  clergymen  of  his  native  country, 
and  even  the  magistrates  of  Edinburgh !  One  of  his  last 
productions  was  a  pamphlet  on  the  murder  of  Captain  Porteous, 
which  he  concludes  by  saying,  in  the  true  spirit  of  a  Cameronian 
martyr:  *  If  the  king  and  clergy  gar  hang  me  for  writing  this,  I  'm 
content,  because  it  is  long  since  any  man  was  hanged  for 
religion.'  The  learned  Tinklarian  was  destined,  however,  to  die 
in  his  bed — an  event  which  came  to  pass  in  the  year  1740. 

The  profession  of  which  the  Tinklarian  Doctor  subscribed 
himself  a  member,  has  long  been  predominant  in  the  West  Bow. 
We  see  from  a  preceding  extract  that  it  reckoned  dagger-makers 
among  its  worthy  denizens  in  the  reign  of  James  VI.  But  this 
trade  has  long  been  happily  extinct  everywhere  in  Scotland; 
though  their  less  formidable  brethren  the  whitesmiths,  copper- 
smiths, and  pewterers,  have  continued  down  to  our  own  day  to 
keep  almost  unrivalled  possession  of  the  Bow.  Till  within  these 
few  years,  there  was  scarcely  a  shop  in  this  street  occupied  by 
other  tradesmen ;  and  it  might  be  supposed  that  the  noise  of  so 
many  hammermen,  pent  up  in  a  narrow  thoroughfare,  would  be 
extremely  annoying  to  the  nighbourhood.  Yet  however  dis- 
agreeable their  clattering  might  seem  to  strangers,  it  is  generally 
admitted  that  the  people  who  lived  in  the  West  Bow  became 
habituated  to  the  noise,  and  felt  no  inconvenience  whatever 
from  its  ceaseless  operation  upon  their  ears.  Nay,  they  rather 
experienced  inconvenience  from  its  cessation,  and  only  felt 
annoyed  when  any  period  of  rest  arrived  and  stopped  it. 
Sunday  morning,  instead  of  favouring  repose,  made  them  rest- 
less; and  when  they  removed  to  another  part  of  the  town, 
beyond  the  reach  of  the  sound,  sleep  was  unattainable  in  the 
morning  for  some  weeks,  till  they  got  accustomed  to  the 
quiescence  of  their  new  neighbourhood.  An  old  gentleman 
once  told  me,  that  having  occasion  in  his  youth  to  lodge  for  a 
short  time  in  the  West  Bow,  he  found  the  incessant  clanking 
extremely  disagreeable,  and  at  last  entered  into  a  paction  with 


56  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

some  of  the  workmen  in  his  immediate  neighbourhood,  who 
promised  to  let  him  have  another  hour  of  quiet  sleep  in  the 
mornings  for  the  consideration  of  some  such  matter  as  half-a- 
crown  to  drink  on  Saturday  night.  The  next  day  happening 
(out  of  his  knowledge)  to  be  some  species  of  Saint  Monday,  his 
annoyers  did  not  work  at  all ;  but  such  was  the  force  of  a  habit 
acquired  even  in  a  week  or  little  more,  that  our  friend  awoke 
precisely  at  the  moment  when  the  hammers  used  to  commence ; 
and  he  was  glad  to  get  his  bargain  cancelled  as  soon  as  possible, 
for  fear  of  another  morning's  want  of  disturbance. 

OLD   ASSEMBLY-ROOM. 

At  the  first  angle  of  the  Bow,  on  the  west  side  of  the  street,  is 
a  tall  picturesque-looking  house,  which  tradition  points  to  as 
having  been  the  first  place  where  the  fashionables  of  Edinburgh 
held  their  dancing  assemblies.  Over  the  door  is  a  well-cut 
sculpture  of  the  arms  of  the  Somerville  family,  together  with  the 
initials  P.  J.  and  J.  W.,  and  the  date  1602.  These  are 
memorials  of  the  original  owner  of  the  mansion,  a  certain  Peter 
Somerville,  a  wealthy  citizen,  at  one  time  filling  a  dignified 
situation  in  the  magistracy,  and  father  of  Bartholomew  Somer- 
ville, who  was  a  noted  benefactor  to  the  then  infant  university 
of  Edinburgh.  The  architrave  also  bears  a  legend  (the  title  of 
the  eleventh  psalm) : 

IN  DOMINO  CONFIDO. 

Ascending  by  the  narrow  spiral  stair,  we  come  to  the  second 
floor,  now  occupied  by  a  dealer  in  wool,  but  presenting  such 
appearances  as  leave  no  doubt  that  it  once  consisted  of  a  single 
lofty  wainscoted  room,  with  a  carved  oak  ceiling.  Here,  then, 
did  the  fair  ladies  whom  Allan  Ramsay  and  William  Hamilton 
celebrate,  meet  for  the  recreation  of  dancing  with  their  toupeed 
and  deep-skirted  beaux.  There,  in  that  little  side-room,  formed 
by  an  outshot  from  the  building,  did  the  merry  sons  of  Euterpe 
retire  to  rosin  their  bows  during  the  intervals  of  the  performance. 
Alas!  dark  are  the  walls  which  once  glowed  with  festive  light; 


OLD  ASSEMBLY-ROOM.  57 

burdened  is  that  floor,  not  with  twinkling  feet,  but  with  the  most 
sluggish  of  inanimate  substances.  And  as  for  the  fiddlers-room 
— enough: 

*  A  merry  place  it  was  in  days  of  yore, 
But  something  ails  it  now — the  place  is  cursed.'* 

Dancing,  although  said  to  be  a  favourite  amusement  and 
exercise  of  the  Scottish  people,  has  always  been  discounten- 
anced, more  or  less,  in  the  superior  circles  of  society,  or  only 
indulged  after  a  very  abstemious  and  rigid  fashion,  until  a 
comparatively  late  age.  Everything  that  could  be  called  public 
or  promiscuous  amusement  was  held  in  abhorrence  by  the 
Presbyterians,  and  only  struggled  through  a  desultory  and 
degraded  existence  by  the  favour  of  the  Jacobites,  who  have 
always  been  a  less  strait-laced  part  of  the  community.  Thus, 
there  was  nothing  like  a  conventional  system  of  dancing  in 
Edinburgh  till  the  !year  1710,  when  at  length  a  private  associa- 
tion was  commenced  under  the  name  of  'the  Assembly;'  and 
probably  its  first  quarters  were  in  this  humble  domicile.  The 
persecution  which  it  experienced  from  rigid  thinkers,  and  the 
uninstructed  populace  of  that  age,  would  appear  to  have  been 
very  great.  On  one  occasion,  we  are  told,  the  company  were 
assaulted  by  an  infuriated  rabble,  and  the  door  of  their  hall 
perforated  with  red-hot  spits.t  Allan  Ramsay,  who  was  the 
friend  of  all  amusements  which  he  conceived  to  tend  only 
to  cheer  this  sublunary  scene  of  care,  thus  alludes  to  the 
Assembly : 

'  Sic  as.  against  the  Assembly  speak, 

The  rudest  sauls  betray, 
When  matrons  noble,  wise,  and  meek, 

Conduct  the  healthfu'  play, 
Where  they  appear  nae  vice  daur  keek, 

But  to  what 's  guid  gies  way. 
Like  night,  sune  as  the  morning  creek 

Has  ushered  in  the  day. 

*  This  house  was  demohshed  in  1836. 
t  Jackson's  History  of  the  Stage,  p.  418. 


58  TRADITIONS    OF   EDINBURGH. 

Dear  E'nburgh,  shaw  thy  gratitude, 

And  o'  sic  friends  mak  sure, 
Wha  strive  to  mak  our  minds  less  rude, 

And  help  our  wants  to  cure  ; 
Acting  a  generous  part  and  guid. 

In  bounty  to  the  poor  : 
Sic  virtues,  if  right  understood, 

Should  every  heart  allure.' 


We  can  easily  see  from  this,  and  other  symptoms,  that  the 
Assembly  had  to  make  many  sacrifices  to  the  spirit  which  sought 
to  abolish  it.  In  reality,  the  dancing  was  conducted  under  such 
severe  rules,  as  to  render  the  whole  affair  more  like  a  night  at 
La  I'rappe  than  anything  else.  So  lately  as  1753,  when  the 
Assembly  had  fallen  under  the  control  of  a  set  of  directors,  and 
was  much  more  of  a  public  affair  than  formerly,  we  find  Gold- 
smith giving  the  following  graphic  account  of  its  meetings,  in  a 
letter  to  a  friend  in  his  own  country.  The  author  of  the  Deserted 
Village  was  now  studying  the  medical  profession,  it  must  be 
recollected,  at  the  university  of  Edinburgh  : 

'  Let  me  say  something  of  their  balls,  which  are  very  frequent 
here.  When  a  stranger  enters  the  dancing-hall,  he  sees  one 
end  of  the  room  taken  up  with  the  ladies,  who  sit  dismally  in 
a  group  by  themselves ;  on  the  other  end  stand  their  pensive 
partners  that  are  to  be ;  but  no  more  intercourse  between  the 
sexes  than  between  two  countries  at  war.  The  ladies,  indeed, 
may  ogle,  and  the  gentlemen  sigh,  but  an  embargo  is  laid  upon 
any  closer  commerce.  At  length,  to  interrupt  hostilities,  the 
lady-directress,  intendant,  or  what  you  will,  pitches  on  a  gentle- 
man and  a  lady  to  walk  a  minuet,  which  they  perform  with  a 
formality  approaching  to  despondence.  After  five  or  six  couple 
have  thus  walked  the  gauntlet,  all  stand  up  to  country-dances, 
each  gentleman  furnished  with  a  partner  from  the  aforesaid 
lady-directress.  So  they  dance  much,  and  say  nothing,  and 
thus  concludes  our  Assembly.  I  told  a  Scotch  gentleman  that 
such  a  profound  silence  resembled  the  ancient  procession  of  the 
Roman  matrons  in  honour  of  Ceres ;  and  the  Scotch  gentleman 


PAUL  ROMIEU.  59 

told  me  (and,  faith,  I  believe  he  was  right)  that  I  was  a  very 
great  pedant  for  my  pains.' 

In  the  same  letter,  however.  Goldsmith  allows  the  beauty  of 
the  women,  and  the  good-breeding  of  the  men. 

It  may  add  to  the  curiosity  of  the  whole  affair,  that,  when  the 
Assembly  was  reconstituted  in  February  1746,  after  several  years 
of  cessation,  the  first  of  a  set  of  regulations  hung  up  in  the  hall  * 
was : 

'  No  lady  to  he  admitted  in  a  night-gown,  a?id  no  gentleinan  in 
boots.^ 

The  eighth  rule  was  :  '  No  misses  in  skirts  and  jackets,  robe- 
coats,  nor  stay-bodied  gowns,  to  be  allowed  to  dance  in  country- 
dances,  but  in  a  sett  by  themselves.' 

In  all  probability  it  was  in  this  very  dingy  house  that  Gold- 
smith beheld  the  scene  he  has  so  well  described.  At  least  it 
appears  that  the  improved  Assembly  Room  in  Bell's  Wynd 
(which  has  latterly  served  as  a  part  of  the  accommodations  of 
the  Commercial  Bankt)  was  not  built  till  1766.  Arnot,  in  his 
History  of  Edinburgh,  describes  the  Assembly  Room  in  Bell's 
Wynd  as  very  inconvenient,  which  was  the  occasion  of  the 
present  one  being  built  in  George  Street  in  1784, 

,    PAUL    ROMIEU. 

At  this  angle  of  the  Bow  the  original  city-wall  crossed  the 
line  of  the  street,  and  there  was,  accordingly,  a  gate  at  this  spot, 
of  which  the  only  existing  memorial  is  one  of  the  hooks  for  the 
suspension  of  the  hinges,  fixed  in  the  front  wall  of  a  house,  at 
the  height  of  about  five  feet  from  the  ground.  It  is  from  the 
arch  forming  this  gateway  that  the  street  takes  its  name,  bow 
being  an  old  word  for  an  arch.  The  house  immediately  without 
this  ancient  port,  on  the  east  side  of  the  street,  was  occupied, 
about  the  beginning  of  the  last  century,  and  perhaps  at 
an  earlier  period,   by  Paul  Romieu,  an  eminent  watchmaker, 

*  See  Notes  from  the  Records  qftlie  Assetnbly  Roo)ns  of  Edinburgh.  Edinburgh  :  Neill 
and  Co.     1842. 

i  Now  [1868)  the  Free  Tron  Church. 

E 


6o  TRADITIONS    OF   EDINBURGH. 

supposed  to  have  been  one  of  the  French  refugees  driven  over 
to  this  country  in  consequence  of  the  revocation  of  the  Edict  of 
Nantes.  This  is  the  more  likely,  as  he  seems,  froiii  the  work- 
manship of  his  watches,  to  have  been  a  contemporary  of  Tompion, 
the  famous  London  horologist  of  the  reign  of  Charles  II.  In 
the  front  of  the  house,  upon  the  third  story,  there  is  still  to  be 
seen  the  remains  of  a  curious  piece  of  mechanism ;  namely,  a 
gilt  ball  representing  the  moon,  which  was  made  to  revolve  by 
means  of  a  clock.* 

'he  that  tholes  overcomes.' 

Pursuing  our  way  down  the  steep  and  devious  street,  we  pass 
an  antique  wooden-faced  house,  bearing  the  odd  name  of  the 
Mahogany  Land,  and  just  before  turning  the  second  comer, 
pause  before  a  stone  one  of  equally  antiquated  structure,t 
having  a  wooden-screened  outer  stair.  Over  the  door  at  the 
head  of  this  stair  is  a  legend  in  very  old  lettering — certainly  not 
later  than  1530 — and  hardly  to  be  deciphered.  With  difficulty 
we  make  it  out  to  be 

HE  YT  THOLIS    OVERCVMMIS. 

He  that  tholes  (that  is,  bears)  overcomes ;  equivalent  to  what 
Virgil  says  :   • 

'  Quidquid  erit,  superanda  omnis  fortuna  ferendo  est.' 

^7ieid,  V. 

We  may  safely  speculate  on  this  inscription  being  antecedent  in 
date  to  the  Reformation,  as  after  that  period  merely  moral 
apothegms  were  held  in  little  regard,  and  none  but  biblical 
inscriptions  were  actually  put  upon  the  fronts  of  houses. 

On  the  other  side  of  the  street  is  a  small  shop  (marked  No. 
69),  now  occupied  by  a  dealer  in  small  miscellaneous  wares, :{: 
and  which  was,  a  hundred  years  ago,  open  for  a  nearly  similar 
kind  of  business,  under  the  charge  of  a  Mrs  Jeffrey.     When,  on 

*  This  house  was  demolished  in  1835,  to  make  way  for  a  passage  towards  George  IV. 
Bridge. 
t  Taken  down  in  1839.  t  DemoHshed  in  1833. 


PROVOST  STEWART'S   HOUSE.  6 1 

the  night  of  the  7th  September  1736,  the  rioters  hurried  their 
victim  Porteous  down  the  West  Bow,  with  the  design  of  executing 
him  in  the  Grassmarket,  they  called  at  this  shop  to  provide 
themselves  with  a  rope.  The  woman  asked  if.  it  was  to  hang 
Porteous,  and  when  they  answered  in  the  affirmative,  she  told 
them  they  were  welcome  to  all  she  had  of  that  article.  They 
coolly  took  off  what  they  required,  and  laid  a  guinea  on  the 
counter  as  payment  j  ostentatious  to  mark  that  they  '  did  all  in 
honour.' 

PROVOST  Stewart's  house — Donaldsons  the  booksellers. 

The  upper  floors  of  the  house  which  looks  down  into  the 
Grassmarket  formed  the  mansion  of  Mr  Archibald  Stewart, 
Lord  Provost  of  Edinburgh  in  1745.  This  is  an  abode  of 
singular  structure  and  arrangements,  having  its  principal  access 
by  a  close  out  of  another  street,  and  only  a  postern  one  into 
the  Bow,  and  being  full  of  curious  little  wainscoted  rooms, 
concealed  closets,  and  secret  stairs.  In  one  apartment  there  is 
a  cabinet,  or  what  appears  a  cabinet,  about  three  feet  high  : 
this,  when  cross-examined,  turns  out  to  be  the  mask  of  a  trap- 
stair.  Only  a  smuggler,  one  would  think,  or  a  gentleman 
conducting  treasonable  negotiations,  could  have  bethought  him 
of  building  such  a  house.  Whether  Provost  Stewart,  who  was  a 
thorough  Jacobiie,  was  the  designer  of  these  contrivances,  I 
cannot  tell ;  but  fireside  gossip  used  to  have  a  strange  story  as 
to  his  putting  his  trap-stair  to  use  on  one  important  occasion. 
It  was  said  that,  during  the  occupation  of  Edinburgh  by  the 
Highland  army  in  '45,  his  lordship  was  honoured  one  evening 
with  a  secret  visit  from  the  Prince  and  some  of  his  principal 
officers.  The  situation  was  critical,  for  close  by  was  the  line 
between  the  Highland  guards  and  the  beleaguered  environs  of 
the  castle.  Intelligence  of  the  Prince's  movements  being 
obtained  by  the  governor  of  the  fortress,  a  party  was  sent  to 
seize  him  in  the  provost's  house.  They  made  their  approach 
by  the  usual  access  from  the  Castle-hill  Street;  but  an  alarm 
preceded  them,  and  before  they  obtained  admission,  the  provost's 


62  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

visitors  had  vanished  through  the  mysterious  cabinet,  and  made 
their  exit  by  the  back-door.  What  real  foundation  there  may 
have  been  for  this  somewhat  wild-looking  story,  I  do  not  pretend 
to  say. 

The  house  was  at  a  subsequent  time  the  residence  of  Alexander 
Donaldson  the  bookseller,  whose  practice  of  reprinting  modern 
English  books  in  Edinburgh,  and  his  consequent  litigation  with 
the  London  booksellers,  attracted  much  attention  sixty  years 
since.  Printing  and  publishing  were  in  a  low  state  in  Edinburgh 
before  the  time  of  Donaldson.  In  the  frank  language  of  Hugo 
Amot :  '  The  printing  of  newspapers  and  of  school-books,  of 
the  fanatick  effusions  of  Presbyterian  clergymen,  and  the  law 
papers  of  the  Court  of  Session,  joined  to  the  patent  Bible 
printing,  gave  a  scanty  employment  to  four  printing-offices.' 
About  the  middle  of  the  century,  the  English  law  of  copyright 
not  extending  to  Scotland,  some  of  the  booksellers  began  to 
reprint  the  productions  of  the  English  authors  of  the  day ;  for 
example,  the  Rambler  was  regularly  reproduced  in  this  manner 
in  Edinburgh,  with  no  change  but  the  addition  of  English 
translations  of  the  Latin  mottoes,  which  were  supplied  by  Mr 
James  Elphinstone.  From  this  and  minor  causes,  it  came  to 
pass  that,  in  1779,  there  were  twenty-seven  printing-offices  in 
Edinburgh.  The  most  active  man  in  this  trade  was  Alexander 
Donaldson,  who  likewise  reprinted  in  Edinburgh,  and  sold  in 
London,  English  books  of  which  the  author's  fourteen  years' 
copyright  had  expired,  and  which  were  then  only  protected  by 
a  usage  of  the  London  trade,  rendering  it  dishonourable  as 
between  man  and  man,  among  themselves,  to  reprint  a  book 
which  had  hitherto  been  the  assigned  property  of  one  of  their 
number.  Disregarding  the  rule  of  his  fraternity,  Donaldson  set 
up  a  shop  in  the  Strand  for  the  sale  of  his  cheap  Edinburgh 
editions  of  the  books  of  expired  copyright.  They  met  an  immense 
sale,  and  proved  of  obvious  service  to  the  public,  especially  to 
those  of  limited  means  j  though,  as  Johnson  remarked,  this 
made  Donaldson  '  no  better  than  Robin  Hood,  who  robbed  the 
rich  in  order  to  give  to  the  poor.'      In  reality,  the  London 


DONALDSONS  THE   BOOKSELLERS.  63 

booksellers  had  no  right  beyond  one  of  class  sentiment,  and 
this  was  fully  found  when  they  wrestled  with  Mr  Donaldson  at 
law.  Waiving  all  question  on  this  point,  Donaldson  may  be 
considered  as  a  sort  of  morning-star  of  that  reformation  which 
has  resulted  in  the  universal  cheapening  of  literary  publications. 
Major  Topham,  in  1775,  speaks  of  a  complete  set  of  the  English 
classics  which  he  was  bringing  out,  'in  a  very  handsome  binding,' 
at  the  rate  of  one-and-sixpence  a  volume  ! 

[Donaldson,  in  1763,  started  a  twice-a-week  newspaper  under 
the  name  of  the  Edinburgh  Advertiser,  which  was  for  a  long 
course  of  years  the  prominent  journal  on  the  Conservative  side, 
and  eminently  lucrative,  chiefly  through  its  multitude  of  adver- 
tisements. All  his  speculations  being  of  a  prosperous  nature,  he 
acquired  considerable  wealth,  which  he  left  to  his  son,  the  late 
Mr  James  Donaldson,  by  whom  the  newspaper  was  conducted 
for  many  years.  James  added  largely  to  his  wealth  by  successful 
speculations  in  the  funds,  where  he  held  so  large  a  sum,  that  the 
rise  of  a  per  cent,  made  him  a  thousand  pounds  richer  than  he 
had  been  the  day  before.  Prompted  by  the  example  of  Heriot 
and  Watson,  and  partly,  perhaps,  by  that  modification  of  egotism 
which  makes  us  love  to  be  kept  in  the  remembrance  of  future 
generations,  James  Donaldson,  at  his  death  in  1830,  devoted 
the  mass  of  his  fortune — about  ^^240,000 — for  the  foundation 
of  a  hospital  for  the  maintenance  and  education  of  poor  children 
of  both  sexes ;  and  a  structure  for  the  purpose  was  erected,  on  a 
magnificent  plan  furnished  by  Mr  Playfair,  at  an  expense,  it  is 
said,  of  about  ;^i  20,000. 

The  old  house  in  the  West  Bow — which  was  possessed  by 
both  of  these  remarkable  men  in  succession,  and  the  scene  of 
their  entertainments  to  the  literary  men  of  the  last  age,  with 
some  of  whom  Alexander  Donaldson  lived  on  terms  of  intimacy 
— stood  unoccupied  for  several  years  before  1824,  when  it  was 
burnt  down.     New  buildings  now  occupy  its  site.] 


64  traditions  of  edinburgh. 

templars'  lands. 

We  have  now  arrived  at  the  Bow-foot,  about  which  there  is 
nothing  remarkable  to  be  told,  except  that  here,  and  along  one 
side  of  the  Grassmarket,  are  several  houses  marked  by  a  cross 
on  some  conspicuous  part — either  an  actual  iron  cross,  or  one 
represented  in  sculpture.  This  seems  a  strange  circumstance  in 
a  country  where  it  was  even  held  doubtful,  twenty  years  ago, 
whether  one  could  be  placed  as  an  ornament  on  the  top  of  a 
church  tower.  The  explanation  is,  that  these  houses  were  built 
upon  lands  originally  the  property  of  the  Knights  Templars,  and 
the  cross  has  ever  since  been  kept  up  upon  them,  not  from  any 
veneration  for  that  ancient  society,  neither  upon  any  kind  of 
religious  ground ;  the  sole  object  has  been  to  fix  in  remembrance 
certain  legal  titles  and  privileges  which  have  been  transmitted 
into  secular  hands  from  that  source,  and  which  are  to  this  day 
productive  of  solid  benefits.  A  hundred  years  ago,  the  houses 
thus  marked  were  held  as  part  of  the  barony  of  Drem  in 
Haddingtonshire,  the  baron  of  which  used  to  hold  courts  in 
them  occasionally ;  and  here  were  harboured  many  persons  not 
free  of  the  city  corporations,  to  the  great  annoyance  of  the 
adherents  of  local  monopoly.  At  length,  the  abolition  of 
heritable  jurisdictions  in  1747  extinguished  this  little  barony,  but 
not  certain  other  legal  rights  connected  with  the  TemJ>lar  Lands, 
which,  however,  it  might  be  more  troublesome  to  explain  than 
advantageous  to  know. 

the  gallows  stone. 

In  a  central  situation  at  the  east  end  of  the  Grassmarket, 
there  remained  till  very  lately  a  massive  block  of  sandstone, 
having  a  quadrangular  hole  in  the  middle,  being  the  stone  which 
served  as  a  socket  for  the  gallows,  when  this  was  the  common 
place  of  execution.  Instead  of  the  stone,  there  is  now  only  a 
St  Andrew's  cross,  indicated  by  an  arrangement  of  the  paving- 
stones. 


*rHE   GALLOWS   STONE.  65 

This  became  the  regular  scene  of  executions  after  the  Restora- 
tion, and  so  continued  till  the  year  1784.  Hence  arises  the 
sense  of  the  Duke  of  Rothes's  remark,  when  a  Covenanting 
prisoner  proved  obdurate — '  Then  e'en  let  him  glorify  God  in  the 
Grassmarket !' — the  deaths  of  that  class  of  victims  being  always 
signalised  by  psalm-singing  on  the  scaffold.  Most  of  the 
hundred  persons  who  suffered  for  that  cause  in  Edinburgh 
during  the  reigns  of  Charles  II.  and  James  II.  breathed  their 
last  pious  aspirations  at  this  spot;  but  several  of  the  most 
notable,  including  the  Marquis  and  Earl  of  Argyll,  were  executed 
at  the  Cross. 

As  a  matter  of  course,  this  was  the  scene  of  the  Porteous  riot 
in  1736,  and  of  the  subsequent  murder  of  Porteous  by  the  mob. 
The  rioters,  wishing  to  despatch  him  as  near  to  the  place  of  his 
alleged  crime  as  possible,  selected  for  the  purpose  a  dyer's  pole 
which  stood  on  the  south  side  of  the  street,  exactly  opposite  to 
the  gallows  stone. 

Some  of  the  Edinburgh  executioners  have  been  so  far  notable 
men  as  to  be  the  subject  of  traditionary  fame.  In  the  reign  of 
Charles  II,,  Alexander  Cockbum,  the  hangman  of  Edinburgh, 
and  who  must  have  officiated  at  the  exits  of  many  of  the 
*  martyrs '  in  the  Grassmarket,  was  found  guilty  of  the  murder  of 
a  bluegown,  or  privileged  beggar,  and  accordingly  suffered  that 
fate  which  he  had  so  often  meted  out  to  other  men.  One 
Mackenzie,  the  hangman  of  Stirling,  whom  Cockbum  had 
traduced  and  endeavoured  to  thrust  out  of  office,  was  the 
triumphant  executioner  of  the  sentence. 

Another  Edinburgh  hangman  of  this  period  was  a  reduced 
gentleman,  the  last  of  a  respectable  family  who  had  possessed 
an  estate  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Melrose.  He  had  been  a 
profligate  in  early  life,  squandered  the  whole  of  his  patrimony, 
and  at  length,  for  the  sake  of  subsistence,  was  compelled  to 
accept  this  wretched  office,  which  in  those  days  must  have  been 
unusually  obnoxious  to  popular  odium,  on  account  of  the 
frequent  executions  of  innocent  and  religious  men.  Notwith- 
standing his  extreme  degradation,  this  unhappy  reprobate  could 


66  TRADITIONS   OF  EDINBURGH. 

not  altogether  forget  his  original  station,  and  his  former  tastes 
and  habits.  He  would  occasionally  resume  the  garb  of  a 
gentleman,  and  mingle  in  the  parties  of  citizens  who  played  at 
golf  in  the  evenings  on  Bruntsfield  Links.  Being  at  length 
recognised,  he  was  chased  from  the  ground  with  shouts  of 
execration  and  loathing,  which  affected  him  so  much,  that  he 
retired  to  the  solitude  of  the  King's  Park,  and  was  next  day 
found  dead  at  the  bottom  of  a  precipice,  over  which  he  was 
supposed  to  have  thrown  himself  in  despair.  This  rock  was 
afterwards  called  the  Ha7igmaiis  Craig. 

In  the  year  1 700,  when  the  Scottish  people  were  in  a  state  of 
great  excitement,  on  account  of  the  interference  of  the  English 
government  against  their  expedition  to  Darien,  some  persons 
were  apprehended  for  a  riot  in  the  city  of  Edinburgh,  and 
sentenced  to  be  whipped  and  put  upon  the  pillory.  As  these 
persons  had  acted  under  the  influence  of  the  general  feeling, 
they  excited  the  sympathy  of  the  people  in  an  extraordinary 
degree,  and  even  the  hangman  was  found  to  have  scruples  about 
the  propriety  of  punishing  them.  Upon  the  pillory  they  were 
presented  with  flowers  and  wine ;  and  when  arrayed  for  flagella- 
tion, the  executioner  made  a  mere  mockery  of  his  duty,  never 
once  permitting  his  whip  to  touch  their  backs.  The  magistrates 
were  very  indignant  at  the  conduct  of  their  servant,  and  sentenced 
him  to  be  scourged  in  his  turn.  However,  when  the  Haddington 
executioner  was  brought  to  officiate  upon  his  metropolitan  brother, 
he  was  so  much  frightened  by  the  threatening  aspect  of  the  mob, 
that  he  thought  it  prudent  to  make  his  escape  through  a 
neighbouring  alley.  The  laugh  was  thus  turned  against  the 
magistrates,  who,  it  was  said,  would  require  to  get  a  third 
executioner  to  punish  the  Haddington  man.  They  prudently 
dropped  the  whole  matter. 

At  a  somewhat  later  period,  the  Edinburgh  official  was  a  man 
named  John  Dalgleish.  He  it  was  who  acted  at  the  execution 
of  Wilson  the  smuggler,  in  1736,  -and  who  is  alluded  to  so 
frequently  in  the  tale  of  the  Heart  of  Mid-Lothiaii.  Dalgleish, 
I  have  heard,  was  esteemed,  before  his  taking  up  this  office,  as  a 


EDINBURGH   HANGMEN.  67 

person  in  creditable  circumstances.  He  is  memorable  for  one 
pithy  saying.  Some  one  asking  him  how  he  contrived,  in 
whipping  a  criminal,  to  adjust  the  weight  of  his  arm,  on  which, 
it  is  obvious,  much  must  depend :  '  Oh,'  said  he,  '  I  lay  on  the 
lash  according  to  my  conscience.'  Either  Jock,  or  some  later 
official,  was  remarked  to  be  a  regular  hearer  at  the  Tolbooth 
Church.  As  no  other  person  would  sit  in  the  same  seat,  he 
always  had  a  pew  to  himself.  He  regularly  communicated ;  but 
here  the  exclusiveness  of  his  fellow-creatures  also  marked  itself, 
and  the  clergyman  was  obliged  to  serve  a  separate  table  for  the 
hangman,  after  the  rest  of  the  congregation  had  retired  from  the 
church. 

The  last  Edinburgh  executioner  of  whom  any  particular  notice 
has  been  taken  by  the  public  was  John  High,  commonly  called 
Jock  Heich,  who  acceded  to  the  office  in  the  year  1784,  and 
died  so  lately  as  181 7.  High  had  been  originally  induced  to 
undertake  this  degrading  duty,  in  order  to  escape  the  punish- 
ment due  to  a  petty  offence — that  of  stealing  poultry.  I  remem- 
ber him  living  in'his  official  mansion  in  a  lane  adjoining  to  the 
Cowgate — a  small  wretched-looking  house,  assigned  by  the 
magistrates  for  the  residence  of  this  race  of  officers,  and  which 
has  only  been  removed  within  the  last  few  years,  to  make  way 
for  the  extension  of  the  buildings  of  the  Parliament  Square.  He 
had  then  a  second  wife,  whom  he  used  to  beat  unmercifully. 
Since  Jock's  days,  no  executioner  has  been  so  conspicuous  as  to 
be  known  by  name.  The  fame  of  the  occupation  seems  some- 
how to  have  departed. 

I  have  now  finished  my  account  of  the  West  Bow ;  a  most 
antiquated  place,  yet  not  without  its  virtues  even  as  to  matters 
of  the  present  day.  Humble  as  the  street  appears,  many  of  its 
shopkeepers  and  other  inhabitants  are  of  a  very  respectable 
character.  Bankruptcies  are  said  to  be  very  rare  in  the  Bow. 
Most  of  the  traders  are  of  old  standing,  and  well  to  do  in  the 
world ;  few  but  what  are  the  proprietors  of  their  own  shops  and 
dwellings,  which,  in  such  a  community,  indicates  something  like 


68  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

wealth.  The  smarter  and  more  dashing  men  of  Princes  Street 
and  the  Bridges  may  smile  at  their  homely  externals,  and  dark- 
some little  places  of  business,  or  may  not  even  pay  them  the 
compliment  of  thinking  of  them  at  all ;  yet,  while  they  boast  not 
of  their  '  warerooms,'  or  their  troops  of  '  young  men,'  or  their 
plate-glass  windows,  they  at  least  feel  no  apprehension  from  the 
approach  of  rent-day,  and  rarely  experience  tremulations  on  the 
subject  of  bills.  Perhaps,  if  strict  investigation  were  made,  the 
*  bodies '  of  the  Bow  could  shew  more  comfortable  balances  at 
the  New  Year,  than  at  least  a  half  of  the  sublime  men  who  pay 
an  income  by  way  of  rental  in  George  Street.  Not  one  of  them 
but  is  respectfully  known  by  a  good  sum  on  the  creditor  side  at 
Sir  William  Forbes's ;  not  one  but  can  stand  at  his  shop-door, 
with  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  and  his  hat  on,  not  unwilling,  it 
may  be,  to  receive  custom,  yet  not  liable  to  be  greatly  distressed 
if  the  customer  go  by.  Such,  perhaps,  were  shopkeepers  in  the 
golden  age ! 


JAMES'S    COURT. 

David  Hume — James  Boswell — Lord  Fountainhall. 

James's  Court,  a  well-known  pile  of  building  of  great  altitude  at 
the  head  of  the  Earthen  Mound,  was  erected  about  1725-27  by 
James  Brownhill,  a  joiner,  as  a  speculation,  and  was  for  some 
years  regarded  as  the  quartier  of  greatest  dignity  and  importance 
in  Edinburgh.  The  inhabitants,  who  were  all  persons  of  conse- 
quence in  society,  although  each  had  but  a  single  floor  of  four 
or  five  rooms  and  a  kitchen,  kept  a  clerk  to  record  their  names 
and  proceedings,  had  a  scavenger  of  their  own,  clubbed  in  many 
public  measures,  and  had  balls  and  parties  among  themselves 
exclusively.  In  those  days  it  must  have  been  quite  a  step  in 
life  when  a  man  was  able  to  fix  his  family  in  one  of  the  flats  of 
James's  Court. 


DAVID   HUME.  69 

Amongst  the  many  notables  who  have  harboured  here,  only 
two  or  three  can  be  said  to  have  preserved  their  notability  till 
our  day,  the  chief  being  David  Hume  and  James  Boswell. 

DAVID   HUME. 

The  first  fixed  residence  of  David  Hume  in  Edinburgh 
appears  to  have  been  in  RiddeVs  Land,  Lawnmarket,  near  the 
head  of  the  West  Bow.  He  commenced  housekeeping  there  in 
1 75 1,  when,  according  to  his  own  account,  he  'removed  from 
the  country  to  the  town,  the  true  scene  for  a  man  of  letters.'  It 
was  while  in  Riddel's  Land  that  he  published  his  Political  Dis- 
courses, and  obtained  the  situation  of  librarian  to  the  Faculty  of 
Advocates.  In  this  place  also  he  commenced  the  writing  of  his 
History  of  England.  He  dates  from  Riddel's  Land  in  January 
1753,  but  in  June  we  find  him  removed  to  Jack's  Land,  a  some- 
what airier  situation  in  the-  Canongate,  where  he  remained  for 
nine  years.  Excepting  only  the  small  portion  composed  in  the 
Lawnmarket  mansion,  the  whole  of  the  History  of  England 
was  written  in  Jack's  Land ;  a  fact  which  will  probably  raise 
some  interest  respecting  that  locality.  It  is,  in  reality,  a  plain 
middle-aged  fabric,  of  no  particular  appearance,  and  without 
a  single  circumstance  of  a  curious  nature  connected  with  it, 
besides  the  somewhat  odd  one,  that  the  continuator  of  the 
History,  Smollett,  lived,  some  time  after,  in  his  sister's  house 
precisely  opposite. 

Hume  removed  at  Whitsunday  1762  to  a  house  which  he 
purchased  in  James's  Court — the  eastern  portion  of  the  third 
floor  in  the  west  stair  (counting  from  the  level  of  the  court). 
This  was  such  a  step  as  a  man  would  take  in  those  days  as  a 
consequence  of  improvement  in  his  circumstances.  The  philo- 
sopher had  lived  in  James's  Court  but  a  short  time,  when  he  was 
taken  to  France  as  secretary  to  the  embassy.  In  his  absence, 
which  lasted  several  years,  his  house  was  occupied  by  Dr  Blair, 
who  here  had  a  son  of  the  Duke  of  Northumberland  as  a  pupil. 
It  is  interesting  to  find  Hume,  some  time  after,  writing  to  his 
friend  Dr  Ferguson  from  the  midst  of  the  gaieties  of  Paris  :  '  I 


70  TRADITIONS   OF  EDINBURGH. 

am  sensible  that  I  am  misplaced,  and  I  wish  twice  or  thrice  a 
day  for  my  easy-chair  and  my  retreat  in  James's  Court.''  Then  he 
adds  a  beautiful  sentiment :  '  Never  think,  dear  Ferguson,  that 
as  long  as  you  are  master  of  your  own  fireside  and  your  own 
time,  you  can  be  unhappy,  or  that  any  other  circumstance  can 
add  to  your  enjoyment.'  *  In  one  of  his  letters  to  Blair,  he 
speaks  minutely  of  his  house :  '  Never  put  a  fire  in  the  south 
room  with  the  red  paper.  It  was  so  warm  of  itself,  that  all  last 
winter,  which  was  a  very  severe  one,  I  lay  with  a  single  blanket; 
and  frequently,  upon  coming  in  at  midnight  starving  with  cold, 
have  sat  down  and  read  for  an  hour,  as  if  I  had  had  a  stove  in 
the  room.'  From  1763  till  1766  he  lived  in  high  diplomatic 
situations  at  Paris ;  and  thinking  to  settle  there  for  life,  for  the 
sake  of  the  agreeable  society,  gave  orders  to  sell  his  house  in 
Edinburgh.  He  informs  us,  in  a  letter  to  the  Countess  de 
Boufflers  {General  Correspondence,  4to,  1820,  p.  231),  that  he  was 
prevented  by  a  singular  accident  from  carrying  his  intention  into 
effect.  After  writing  a  letter  to  Edinburgh  for  the  purpose  of 
disposing  of  his  house,  and  leaving  it  with  his  Parisian  landlord, 
he  set  out  to  pass  his  Christmas  with  the  Countess  de  Boufiiers 
at  L'Isle  Adam ;  but  being  driven  back  by  a  snow-storm,  which 
blocked  up  the  roads,  he  found  on  his  return  that  the  letter  had 
not  been  sent  to  the  post-house.  More  deliberate  thoughts  then 
determined  him  to  keep  up  his  Edinburgh  mansion,  thinking 
that,  if  any  affairs  should  call  him  to  his  native  country,  'it 
would  be  very  inconvenient  not  to  have  a  house  to  retire  to.* 
On  his  return,  therefore,  in  1766,  he  re-entered  into  possession 
oiVxiflatAxv  James's  Court,  but  was  soon  again  called  from  it, 
by  an  invitation  from  Mr  Conway  to  be  an  under-secretary  of 
state.  At  length,  in  1769,  he  returned  permanently  to  his  native 
city,  in  possession  of  what  he  thought  opulence — a  thousand 
a  year.  We  find  him  immediately  writing  from  his  retreat  in 
James's  Court  to  his  friend  Adam  Smith,  then  commencing  his 
great  work  On  the  Wealth  of  Nations  in  the  quiet  of  his  mother's 
house  at  Kirkcaldy :  '  I  am  glad  to  have  come  within  sight  of 

*  Burton's  Life  of  Hume,  u.  173. 


DAVID   HUME.  J I 

you,  and  to  have  a  view  of  Kirkcaldy  from  my  windows  ;  but  I 
wish  also  to  be  within  speaking-terms  of  you,'  &c.  To  another 
person  he  writes  :  '  I  live  still,  and  must  for  a  twelvemonth, 
in  my  old  house  in  James's  Court,  which  is  very  cheerful,  and 
even  elegant,  but  too  small  to  display  my  great  talent  for  cookery, 
the  science  to  which  I  intend  to  addict  the  remaining  years  of 
my  life !' 

Hume  now  built  a  superior  house  for  himself  in  the  New 
Town,  which  was  then  Httle  beyond  its  commencement,  selecting 
a  site  adjoining  to  St  Andrew  Square.  The  superintendence  of 
this  work  was  an  amusement  to  him.  A  story  is  related  in  more 
than  one  way  regarding  the  manner  in  which  a  denomination 
was  conferred  upon  the  street  in  which  this  house  is  situated. 
Perhaps,  if  it  be  premised  that  a  corresponding  street  at  the 
other  angle  of  St  Andrew  Square  is  called  Si  Andrew  Street^a 
natural  enough  circumstance  with  reference  to  the  square,  whose 
title  was  determined  on  in  the  plan — it  will  appear  likely  that  the 
choosing  of '  St  David  Street '  for  that  in  which  Hume's  house 
stood,  was  not  originally  designed  as  a  jest  at  his  expense, 
though  a  second  thought,  and  the  whim  of  his  friends,  might 
quickly  give  it  that  application.  The  story,  as  told  by  Mr 
Burton,  is  as  follows  :  '  When  the  house  was  built  and  inhabited 
by  Hume,  but  while  yet  the  street  of  which  it  was  the  com- 
mencement had  no  name,  a  witty  young  lady,  daughter  of  Baron 
Ord,  chalked  on  the  wall  the  words,  St  David  Street.  The 
allusion  was  very  obvious.  Hume's  "  lass,"  judging  that  it  was 
not  meant  in  honour  or  reverence,  ran  into  the  house  much 
excited,  to  tell  her  master  how  he  was  made  game  of  "  Never 
mind,  lassie,"  he  said,  "  many  a  better  man  has  been  made  a 
saint  of  before." ' 

That  Hume  was  a  native  of  Edinburgh,  is  well  known.  One 
could  wish  to  know  the  spot  of  his  birth;  but  it  is  not  now 
perhaps  possible  to  ascertain  it.  The  nearest  approach  made  to 
the  fact  is  from  intelligence  conveyed  by  a  memorandum  in 
his  father's  handwriting  among  the  family  papers,  where  he 
speaks  of  '  my  son  David,  born  in  the  Tron  Church  parish ' — a 


72  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

district  comprehending  a  large  square  clump  of  town  between 
the  High  Street  and  Cowgate,  east  of  the  site  of  the  church 
itself. 

One  of  Hume's  most  intimate  friends  amongst  the  other  sex 
was  Mrs  Cockbum,  author  of  one  of  the  beautiful  songs  called 
The  Flowers  of  the  Forest.  While  he  was  in  France  in  1764,  she 
writes  to  him  horn., Baird^s  Close,  Castle-hill:  ' The  cloven  foot 
for  which  thou  art  worshipped  I  despise ;  yet  I  remember  thee 
with  affection.  I  remember  that,  in  spite  of  vain  philosophy,  of 
dark  doubts,  of  toilsome  learning,  God  has  stamped  his  image 
of  benignity  so  strong  upon  thy  heart,  that  not  all  the  labours  of 
thy  head  could  efface  it'  After  Hume's  return  to  Edinburgh, 
he  kept  up  his  acquaintance  with  this  spirited  and  amiable 
woman.  The  late  Mr  Alexander  Young,  W.S.,  had  some 
reminiscences  of  parties  which  he  attended  when  a  boy  at  her 
house,  and  at  which  the  philosopher  was  present.  Hume  came 
in  one  evening  behind  time  for  htx  petit  souper,  when,  seeing  her 
bustling  to  get  something  for  him  to  eat,  he  called  out :  '  Now, 
no  trouble,  if  you  please,  about  quality ;  for  you  know  I  'm  only 
a  glutton,  not  an  epicure.'  Mr  Young  attended  at  a  dinner 
where,  besides  Hume,  there  were  present  Lord  Monboddo  and 
some  other  learned  personages.  Mrs  Cockburn  was  then  living 
in  the  neat  first  floor  of  a  house  at  the  end  of  Crighton  Street, 
with  windows  looking  along  the  Potterrow.  She  had  a  son  of 
eccentric  habits,  in  middle  life,  or  rather  elderly,  who  came  in 
during  the  dinner  tipsy,  and  going  into  a  bedroom,  locked  him- 
self in,  went  to  bed,  and  fell  asleep.  The  company  in  time 
made  a  move  for  departure,  when  it  was  discovered  that  their 
hats,  cloaks,  and  greatcoats  were  all  locked  up  in  Mr  Cockbum's 
room.  The  door  was  knocked  at  and  shaken,  but  no  answer. 
What  was  to  be  done?  At  length,  Mrs  Cockburn  had  no 
alternative  from  sending  out  to  her  neighbours  to  borrow  a 
supply  of  similar  integuments,  which  was  soon  procured.  There 
was  then  such  fun  in  fitting  the  various  savans  with  suitable 
substitutes  for  their  own  proper  gear  !  Hume,  for  instance,  with 
a  dreadnought  riding-coat,  Monboddo  with  a  shabby  old  hat,  as 


JAMES   BOSWELL.  73 

unlike  his  own  neat  chapeau  as  possible  !  In  the  highest  exal- 
tation of  spirits  did  these  two  men  of  genius  at  length  proceed 
homeward  along  the  Potterrow,  Horse  Wynd,  Assembly  Close, 
&c.  making  the  old  echoes  merry  with  their  peals  of  laughter  at 
the  strange  appearance  which  they  respectively  made. 

I  lately  inspected  Hume's  cheerful  and  elegant  mansion  in 
James's  Court,  and  found  it  divided  amongst  three  or  four 
tenants  in  humble  life,  each  possessing  little  more  than  a  single 
room.  It  was  amusing  to  observe  that  what  had  been  the 
dining-room  and  drawing-room  towards  the  north,  were  each 
provided  with  one  of  those  little  side  oratories  which  have  been 
described  elsewhere  as  peculiar  to  a  period  in  Edinburgh  house- 
building, being  designed  for  private  devotiop.  Hume  living  in 
a  house  with  two  private  chapels  ! 

JAMES   BOSWELL. 

It  appears  that  one  of  the  immediately  succeeding  lease- 
holders of  Hume's  house  in  James's  Court  was  James  Boswell. 
Mr  Burton  has  made  this  tolerably  clear  {Life  of  Hume,  ii.  137), 
and  he  proceeds  to  speculate  on  the  fact  of  Boswell  having  there 
entertained  his  friend  Johnson.  '  Would  Boswell  communicate 
the  fact,  or  tell  what  manner  of  man  was  the  landlord  of  the 
habitation  into  which  he  had,  under  the  guise  of  hospitality, 
entrapped  the  arch-intolerant  ?  Who  shall  appreciate  the  mental 
conflict  which  Boswell  may  have  experienced  on  this  occasion  ? ' 
It  appears,  however,  that  by  the  time  when  Johnson  visited 
Boswell  in  James's  Court,  the  latter  had  removed  into  a  better 
and  larger  mansion  right  below,  and  on  the 'level  of  the  court; 
namely,  that  now  (1846)  occupied  by  Messrs  Pillans  as  a 
printing-office.  This  was  an  extraordinary  house  in  its  day ;  for 
it  consisted  of  two  floors  connected  by  an  internal  stair.  Here 
it  was  that  the  Ursa  Major  of  literature  stayed  for  a  few  days,  in 
August  1773,  while  preparing  to  set  out  to  the  Hebrides,  and 
also  for  some  time  after  his  return.  Here  did  he  receive  the 
homage  of  the  trembling  literati  of  Edinburgh;  here,  after 
handling  them  in  his  rough  manner,  did  he  relax  in  play  with 


74  TRADITIONS    OF   EDINBURGH. 

little  Miss  Veronica,  whom  Boswell  promised  to  consider  pecu- 
liarly in  his  will,  for  shewing  a  liking  to  so  estimable  a  man. 
What  makes  all  this  evident,  is  a  passage  in  a  letter  of  Samuel 
himself  to  Mrs  Thrale  (Edinburgh,  August  17),  where  he  says : 
*  Boswell  has  very  handsome  and  spacious  rooms,  level  with  the 
ground  on  one  side  of  the  house,  and  on  the  other  four  stories 
high.'  Boswell  was  only  tenant  of  the  mansion.  It  affords  a 
curious  idea  of  the  importance  which  formerly  attached  to  some 
of  these  Old  Town  residences,  when  we  learn  that  this  was  part 
of  the  entailed  estate  of  the  Macdowalls  of  Logan,  one  of  whom 
sold  it  by  permission  of  an  Act  of  Parliament,  to  redeem  the 
land-tax  upon  his  country  property. 

Boswell  ceased  to  be  a  citizen  of  Edinburgh  in  1785,  when  he 
was  pleased  to  venture  before  the  English  bar.  He  is  little 
remembered  amongst  the  elder  inhabitants  of  our  city ;  but  the 
late  Mr  William  Macfarlane,  the  well-known  small-debt  judge, 
told  me  that  there  was  this  peculiarity  about  him — it  was 
impossible  to  look  in  his  face  without  being  moved  by  the 
comicality  which  always  reigned  upon  it.  He  was  one  of  those 
men  whose  very  look  is  provocative  of  mirth.  Mr  Robert  Sym, 
W.S.,  who  died  in  1844,  at  an  advanced  age,  remembered  being 
at  parties  in  this  house  in  Boswell's  time. 

LORD    FOUNTAINHALL. 

Before  James's  Court  was  built,  its  site  was  occupied  by 
certain  closes,  in  one  of  which  dwelt  Lord  Fountainhall,  so 
distinguished  as  an  able,  liberal,  and  upright  judge,  and  still 
more  so  by  his  industrious  habits  as  a  collector  of  historical 
memorabilia,  and  of  the  decisions  of  the  Court  of  Session. 
Though  it  is  considerably  upwards  of  a  century  since  Lord 
Fountainhall  died,*  a  traditionary  anecdote  of  his  residence  in 
this  place  has  been  handed  down  till  the  present  time  by  a 
surprisingly  small  number  of  persons.  The  mother  of  the  late 
Mr  Gilbert  Innes  of  Stow  was  a  daughter  of  his  lordship's  son, 

•  His  Lordship  died  September  20,  1722. — Brunton  and  Haig's  Historical  Accouai  of 
the  Senators  oftJie  College  of  Justice, 


LORD   FOUNTAINHALI,.  75    . 

Sir  Andrew  Lauder,  and  she  used  to  describe  to  her  children  the 
visits  she  used  to  pay  to  her  venerable  grandfather's  house, 
situated,  as  she  said,  where  James's  Court  now  stands.  She  and 
her  sister,  a  Httle  girl  like  herself,  always  went  with  their  maid 
on  the  Saturday  afternoons,  and  were  shewn  into  the  room 
where  the  aged  judge  was  sitting — a  room  covered  with  gilt 
leather,*  and  containing  many  huge  presses  and  cabinets,  one  of 
which  was  ornamented  with  a  death's-head  at  the  top.  After 
amusing  themselves  for  an  hour  or  two  with  his  lordship,  they 
used  to  get  each  a  shilling  from  him,  and  retire  to  the  anteroom, 
where,  as  Mrs  Innes  well  recollected,  the  waiting-maid  invariably 
pounced  upon  their  money,  and  appropriated  it  to  her  own  use. 
It  is  curious  to  think  that  the  mother  of  a  gentlewoman  living' 
in  1839  (for  only  then  did  Miss  Innes  of  Stow  leave  this  earthly 
scene)  should  have  been  familiar  with  a  lawyer  who  entered  at 
the  bar  soon  after  the  Restoration  (1668),  and  acted  as  counsel 
for  the  unfortunate  Earl  of  Argyll  in  1681 ;  a  being  of  an  age 
as  different  in  every  respect  from  the  present,  as  the  wilds  of 
North  America  are  different  from  the  long-practised  lands  of 
Lothian  or  Devonshire, 

The  judicial  designation  of  Lord  Fountainhall  was  adopted 
from  a  place  belonging  to  him  in  East  Lothian,  now  the 
property  of  his  representative,  Sir  Thomas  Dick  Lauder,  The 
original  name  of  the  place  was  Woodhead,  When  the  able 
lawyer  came  to  the  bench,  and,  as  usual,  thought  of  a  new 
appellative  of  a  territorial  kind — '  Woodhead — Lord  Woodhead,' 
thought  he;  '  that  will  never  do  for  a  judge  !'  So  the  name  of 
the  place  was  changed  to  Fountainhall,  and  he  became  Lord 
Fountainhall  accordingly, 

[1868, — The  western  half  of  James's  Court  having  been 
destroyed  by  accidental  fire,  the  reader  will  now  find  a  new 
building  on  the  spot.  The  houses  rendered  interesting  by  the 
names  of  Blair,  Boswell,  Johnson,  and  Hume  are  consequently 
no  more.] 

*  A  stuff  brought,  I  believe,  from  Spain,  and  which  was  at  one  time  much  in  fashion  in 
Scotland.  -s 


76  TRADITIONS   OF  EDINBURGH. 


STORY   OF  THE   COUNTESS   OF   STAIR- 

In  a  short  alley  leading  between  the  Lawnmarket  and  the 
Earthen  Mound,  and  called  Lady  Stair's  Close,  there  is  a  sub- 
stantial old  mansion,  presenting,  in  a  sculptured  stone  over  the 
doorway,  a  small  coat-armorial,  with  the  initials  W.  G.  and  G.  S., 
the  date  1622,  and  the  legend : 

FEAR  THE  LORD,  AND  DEPART  FROM  EVILL. 

The  letters  refer  to  Sir  William  Gray  of  Pittendrum,  the  original 
proprietor  of  the  house,  and  his  wife.  Within,  there  are  marks 
of  good  style,  particularly  in  the  lofty  ceiling,  and  an  inner  stair 
apart  from  the  common  one :  but  all  has  long  been  turned  to 
common  purposes ;  while  it  must  be  left  to  the  imagination  to 
realise  the  terraced  garden  which  formerly  descended  towards 
the  North  Loch. 

This  was  the  last  residence  of  a  lady  conspicuous  in  Scottish 
society  in  the  early  part  of  the  last  century — the  widow  of  the 
celebrated  commander  and  diplomatist,  John,  Earl  of  Stair. 
Lady  Eleanor  Campbell  was,  by  paternal  descent,  nearly  related 
to  one  of  the  greatest  historical  figures  of  the  preceding  century, 
being  the  granddaughter  of  the  Chancellor,  Earl  of  Loudon, 
whose  talents  and  influence  on  the  Covenanting  side  were  at 
one  time  believed  to  have  nearly  procured  him  the  honour  of  a 
secret  death,  at  the  command  of  Charles  I.  Her  ladyship's  first 
adventure  in  matrimony  led  to  a  series  of  circumstances  of  a 
marvellous  nature,  which  I  shall  set  down  exactly  as  they  used 
to  be  related  by  friends  of  the  lady  in  the  last  century.  It  was 
her  lot,  at  an  early  age,  to  be  united  to  James,  Viscount  Prim- 
rose, a  man  of  the  worst  temper  and  most  dissolute  manners. 
Her  ladyship,  who  had  no  small  share  of  the  old  chancellor  in 
her  constitution,  could  have  managed  most  men  with  ease,  by 
dint  of  superior  intellect  and  force  of  character ;  but  the  cruelty 
of  Lord  Primrose  was  too  much  for  her.     He  treated  her  so 


STORY   OF  THE   COUNTESS   OF   STAIR.  77 

barbarously,  that  she  had  even  reason  to  fear  that  he  would 
some  day  put  an  end  to  her  life.  One  morning,  she  was 
dressing  herself  in  her  chamber,  near  an  open  window,  when 
his  lordship  entered  the  room  behind  her  with  a  dra^vn  sword 
in  his  hand.  He  had  opened  the  door  softly,  and  although  his 
face  indicated  a  resolution  of  the  most  horrible  nature,  he  still 
had  the  presence  of  ;nind  to  approach  her  with  caution.  Had 
she  not  caught  a  glimpse  of  his  face  and  figure  in  the  glass,  he 
would  in  all  probability  have  come  near  enough  to  execute  his 
bloody  purpose  before  she  was  aware,  or  could  have  taken  any 
measures  to  save  herself  Fortunately,  she  perceived  him  in 
time  to  leap  out  of  the  open  window  into  the  street.  Half- 
dressed  as  she  was,  she  immediately,  by  a  very  laudable  exertion 
of  her  natural  good  sense,  went  to  the  house  of  Lord  Primrose's 
mother,  where  she  told  her  story,  and  demanded  protection. 
That  protection  was  at  once  extended;  and  it  being  now 
thought  vain  to  attempt  a  reconciliation,  they  never  afterwards 
lived  together. 

Lord  Primrose  soon  afterwards  went  abroad.  During  his 
absence,  a  foreign  conjurer,  or  fortune-teller,  came  to  Edinburgh, 
professing,  among  many  other  wonderful  accomplishments,  to 
be  able  to  inform  any  person  of  the  present  condition  or 
situation  of  any  other  person,  at  whatever  distance,  in  whom 
the  applicant  might  be  interested.  Lady  Primrose  was  incited 
by  curiosity  to  go  with  a  female  friend  to  the  lodgings  of  the 
wise  man  in  the  Canongate,  for  the  purpose  of  inquiring  regard- 
ing the  motions  of  her  husband,  of  whom  she  had  not  heard  for 
a  considerable  time.  It  was  at  night ;  and  the  two  ladies  went, 
with  the  tartan  screens  or  plaids  of  their  servants  dra^vn  over 
their  faces  by  way  of  disguise.  Lady  Primrose  having  described 
the  individual  in  whose  fate  she  was  interested,  and  having 
expressed  a  desire  to  know  what  he  was  at  present  doing,  the 
conjurer  led  her  to  a  large  mirror,  in  which  she  distinctly  per- 
ceived the  appearance  of  the  inside  of  a  church,  with  a  marriage- 
party  arranged  near  the  altar.  To  her  astonishment,  she  recog- 
nised in  the  shadowy  bridegroom  no  other  than  her  husband. 


78  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

The  magical  scene  was  not  exactly  like  a  picture ;  or  if  so,  it 
was  rather  like  the  live  pictures  of  the  stage,  than  the  dead  and 
immovable  delineations  of  the  pencil.  It  admitted  of  additions 
to  the  persons  represented,  and  of  a  progress  of  action.  As  the 
lady  gazed  on  it,  the  ceremonial  of  the  marriage  seemed  to 
proceed.  The  necessary  arrangements  had  at  last  been  made, 
the  priest  seemed  to  have  pronounced  the  preliminary  service, 
he  was  just  on  the  point  of  bidding  the  bride  and  bridegroom 
join  hands,  when  suddenly  a  gentleman,  for  whom  the  rest 
seemed  to  have  waited  a  considerable  time,  and  in  whom  Lady 
Primrose  thought  she  recognised  a  brother  of  her  own,  then 
abroad,  entered  the  church,  and  advanced  hurriedly  towards 
the  party.  The  aspect  of  this  person  was  at  first  only  that  of  a 
friend,  who  had  been  invited  to  attend  the  ceremony,  and  who 
had  come  too  late ;  but  as  he  advanced,  the  expression  of  his 
countenance  and  figure  was  altered.  He  stopped  short;  his 
face  assumed  a  wrathful  expression;  he  drew  his  sword,  and 
rushed  up  to  the  bridegroom,  who  prepared  to  defend  himself. 
The  whole  scene  then  became  tumultuous  and  indistinct,  and 
soon  after  vanished  entirely  away.*^ 

When  Lady  Primrose  reached  home,  she  wrote  a  minute 
narrative  of  the  whole  transaction,  to  which  she  appended  the 
day  of  the  month  on  which  she  had  seen  the  mysterious  vision. 
This  narrative  she  sealed  up  in  the  presence  of  a  witness,  and 
then  deposited  it  in  one  of  her  drawers.  Soon  afterwards,  her 
brother  returned  from  his  travels,  and  came  to  visit  her.  She 
asked  if,  in  the  course  of  his  wanderings,  he  had  happened  to 
see  or  hear  anything  of  Lord  Primrose.     The  young  man  only 

*  '  Grace,  Countess  of  Aboyne  and  Moray,  in  her  early  youth,  had  the  weakness  to 
consult  a  celebrated  fortune-teller,  inhabiting  an  obscure  close  in  Edinburgh.  The  sybil 
predicted  that  she  would  become  the  wife  of  two  earls,  and  how  many  children  she  was  to 
bear  ;  but  withal  assured  her,  that  when  she  should  see  a  new  coach  of  a  certain  colour 
driven  up  to  her  door  as  belonging  to  herself,  her  hearse  must  speedily  follow.  Many  years 
afterwards.  Lord  Moray,  who  was  not  aware  of  this  prediction,  resolved  to  surprise  his  wife 
with  the  present  of  a  new  equipage  ;  but  when  Lady  Moray  beheld  from  a  window  a 
carriage  of  the  ominous  colour  arrive  at  the  door  of  Tarnaway,  and  heard  that  it  was  to  be 
her  own  property,  she  sank  down,  exclaiming  that  she  was  a  dead  woman,  and  actually 
expired  in  a  short  time  after,  November  17,  1738.' — Notes  to  Lavis  Memorials,  p.  xcii. 


STORY  OF  THE   COUNTESS   OF   STAIR.  79 

answered  by  saying  that  he  wished  he  might  never  again  hear 
the  name  of  that  detested  personage  mentioned.  Lady  Primrose, 
however,  questioned  him  so  closely,  that  he  at  last  confessed 
having  met  his  lordship,  and  that  under  very  strange  circum- 
stances. Having  spent  some  time  at  one  of  the  Dutch  cities 
— it  was  either  Amsterdam  or  Rotterdam — he  had  become 
acquainted  with  a  rich  merchant,  who  had  a  very  beautiful 
daughter,  his  only  child,  and  the  heiress  of  his  large  fortune. 
One  day  his  friend  the  merchant  informed  him  that  his  daughter 
was  about  to  be  married  to  a  Scottish  gentleman,  who  had  lately 
come  to  reside  there.  The  nuptials  were  to  take  place  in  the 
course  of  a  few  days ;  and  as  he  was  a  countryman  of  the  bride- 
groom, he  was  invited  to  the  wedding.  He  went  accordingly, 
was  a  little  too  late  for  the  commencement  of  the  ceremony,  but 
fortunately  came  in  time  to  prevent  the  sacrifice  of  an  amiable 
young  lady  to  the  greatest  monster  alive  in  human  shape — his^ 
own  brother-in-law.  Lord  Primrose  ! 

The  story  proceeds  to  say  that,  although  Lady  Primrose  had 
proved  her  willingness  to  believe  in  the  magical  delineations  of 
the  mirror,  by  writing  down  an  account  of  them,  yet  she  was  so 
much  surprised  by  discovering  them  to  be  the  representation  of 
actual  fact,  that  she  almost  fainted.  Something,  however,  yet 
remained  to  be  ascertained.  Did  Lord  Primrose's  attempted 
marriage  take  place  exactly  at  the  same  time  with  her  visit  to 
the  conjurer  ?  She  asked  her  brother  on  what  day  the  circum- 
stance which  he  related  took  place.  Having  been  informed,  she 
took  out  her  key,  and  requested  him  to  go  to  her  chamber,  to 
open  a  drawer  which  she  described,  and  to  bring  her  a  sealed 
packet  which  he  would  find  in  that  drawer.  On  the  packet 
being  opened,  it  was  discovered  that  Lady  Primrose  had  seen 
the  shadowy  representation  of  her  husband's  abortive  nuptials  on 
the  very  evening  when  they  were  transacted  in  reality. 

Lord  Primrose  died  in  1706,  leaving  a  widow  who  could 
scarcely  be  expected  to  mourn  for  him.  She  was  still  a  young 
and  beautiful  woman,  and  might  have  procured  her  choice 
among  twenty  better  matches.     Such,  however,  was  the  idea  she 


So  *,  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

had  formed  of  the  marriage  state  from  her  first  husband,  that  she 
made  a  resolution  never  again  to  become  a  wife.  She  kept  her 
resolution  for  many  years,  and  probably  would  have  done  so  till 
the  last,  but  for  a  singular  circumstance.  The  celebrated  Earl 
of  Stair,  who  resided  in  Edinburgh  during  the  greater  part  of 
twenty  years,  which  he  spent  in  retirement  from  all  official 
employments,  became  deeply  smitten  with  her  ladyship,  and 
earnestly  sued  for  her  hand.  If  she  could  have  relented  in 
favour  of  any  man,  it  would  have  been  for  one  who  had  acquired 
so  much  public  honour,  and  whose  private  character  was  also,  in 
general  respects,  so  estimable.  But  to  him  also  she  declared 
her  resolution  of  reinaining  unmarried.  In  his  desperation,  he 
resolved  upon  an  expedient  which  strongly  marks  the  character 
of  the  age  in  respect  of  delicacy.  By  dint  of  bribes  to  her 
domestics,  he  got  himself  insinuated  overnight  into  a  small 
room  in  her  ladyship's  house,  where  she  used  to  say  her  prayers 
every  morning,  and  the  window  of  which  looked  out  upon  the 
principal  street  of  the  city.  At  this  window,  when  the  morning 
was  a  little  advanced,  he  shewed  himself,  en  deshabille,  to  the 
people  passing  along  the  street ;  an  exhibition  which  threatened 
to  have  such  an  effect  upon  her  ladyship's  reputation,  that  she 
saw  fit  to  accept  of  him  for  a  husband. 

She  was  more  happy  as  Countess  of  Stair  than  she  had  been 
as  Lady  Primrose.  Yet  her  new  husband  had  one  failing, 
which  occasioned  her  no  small  uneasiness.  Like  most  other 
gentlemen  at  that  period,  he  sometimes  indulged  too  much  in 
the  bottle.  When  elevated  with  liquor,  his  temper,  contrary  to 
the  general  case,  was  by  no  means  improved.  Thus,  on 
reaching  home  after  a  debauch,  he  generally  had  a  quarrel  with 
his  wife,  and  sometimes  even  treated  her  with  violence.  On 
one  occasion,  when  quite  transported  beyond  the  bounds  of 
reason,  he  gave  her  so  severe  a  blow  upon  the  upper  part  of  the 
face,  as  to  occasion  the  effusion  of  blood.  He  immediately 
after  fell  asleep,  unconscious  of  what  he  had  done.  Lady  Stair 
was  so  overwhelmed  by  a  tumult  of  bitter  and  poignant  feeling, 
that  she  made  no  attempt  to  bind  up  her  wound.    She  sat  do^vn 


STORY   OF   THE   COUNTESS   OF   STAIR.  8 1 

on  a  sofa  near  her  torpid  husband,  and  wept  and  bled  till 
morning.  When ,  his  lordship  awoke,  and  perceived  her  dishev- 
elled and  bloody  figure,  he  was  surprised  to  the  last  degree, 
and  eagerly  inquired  how  she  came  to  be  in  such  an  unusual 
condition.  She  answe^d  by  detailing  to  him  the  whole  history 
of  his  conduct  on  the  preceding  evening ;  which  stung  him  so 
deeply  with  regret — for  he  naturally  possessed  the  most  generous 
feelings — that  he  instantly  vowed  to  his  wife  never  afterwards  to 
take  any  species  of  drink,  except  what  was  first  passed  through 
her  hands.  This  vow  he  kept  most  scrupulously  till  the  day  of 
his  death.  He  never  afterwards  sat  in  any  convivial  company 
where  his  lady  could  not  attend  to  sanction  his  potations. 
Whenever  he  gave  any  entertainment,  she  always  sat  next  him 
and  filled  his  wine,  till  it  was  necessary  for  her  to  retire ;  after 
which,  he  drank  only  from  a  certain  quantity  which  she  had 
first  laid  aside. 

With  much  that  was  respectable  in  her  character,  we  must 
not  be  too  much  surprised  that  Lady  Stair  was  capable  of  using 
terms  of  speech  which  a  subsequent  age  has  learned  to  look  on 
as  objectionable,  even  in  the  humblest  class  of  society.  The 
Earl  of  Dundonald,  it  appears,  had  stated  to  the  Duke  of 
Douglas  that  Lady  Stair  had  expressed  incredulity  regarding  the 
genuineness  of  the  birth  of  his  nephews,  the  children  of  Lady 
Jane  Douglas,  and  did  not  consider  Lady  Jane  as  entitled  to 
any  allowance  from  the  duke  on  their  account.  In  support  of 
what  he  reported,  Dundonald,  in  a  letter  to  the  Lord  Justice- 
clerk,  gave  the  world  leave  to  think  him  '  a  damned  villain '  if 
he  did  not  speak  the  truth.  This  seems  to  have  involved  Lady 
Stair  unpleasantly  with  her  friends  of  the  house  of  Douglas,  and 
she  lost  little  time  in  making  her  way  to  Holyroodhouse,  where, 
before  the  duke  and  duchess  and  their  attendants,  she  declared 
that  she  had  lived  to  a  good  old  age,  and  never  till  now  had  got 
entangled  in  any  clatters — that  is,  scandal.  The  old  dame  then 
thrice  stamped  the  floor  with  her  staff,  each  time  calling  the 
Earl  of  Dundonald  '  a  damned  villain ; '  after  which  she  retired 
in  great  wrath.     Perhaps  this  scene  was  characteristic,  for  we 


82  .  TRADITIONS   OF  EDINBURGH. 

learn  from  letters  of  Lady  M.  W.  Montagu,  that  Lady  Stair 
■was  subject  to  hysterical  ailments,  and  would  be  screaming  and 
fainting  in  one  room,  while  her  daughter,  Miss  Primrose,  and 
Lady  Mary,  were  dancing  in  another. 

This  venerable  lady,  after  being  long*at  the  head  of  society 
in  Edinburgh,  died  in  November  1759,  having  survived  her 
second  husband  twelve  years.  It  was  remembered  of  her  that 
she  had  been  the  first  person  in  Edinburgh,  of  her  time,  to  keep 
a  black  domestic  servant.* 


THE    OLDBANK    CLOSE. 

The  Regent  Morton— The  Old  Bank— Sir  Thomas  Hope— Chiesly  of  Dairy 
— Rich  Merchants  of  the  Sixteenth  Century — Sir  William  Dick — The 
Birth  of  Lord  Brougham. 

OLD   BANK   CLOSE, 

Amongst  the  buildings  removed  to  make  way  for  George  IV.. 
Bridge,  were  those  of  a  short  blind  alley  in  the  Lawnmarket, 
called  the  Old  Bank  Close.  Composed  wholly  of  solid  goodly 
structures,  this  close  had  an  air  of  dignity  that  might  have 
almost  reconciled  a  modern  gentleman  to  live  in  it.  One  of 
these,  crossing  and  closing  the  bottom,  had  been  the  Bank  of 
Scotland — the  Auld  Bank,  as  it  used  to  be  half-affectionately 
called  in  Edinburgh — previously  to  the  erection  of  the  present 
handsome  edifice  in  Bank  Street.  From  this  establishment  the 
close  had  taken  its  name;  but  it  had  previously  been  called 
JTope's  Close,  from   its   being   the  residence  of  a  son  of  the 

*  Negroes  in  a  servile  capacity  had  been  long  before  known  in  Scotland.  Dunbar  has  a 
droll  poem  on  a  female  black,  whom  he  calls  '  My  lady  with  the  muckle  lips.'  In  Lady 
Marie  Stuarfs  Household  Book,  referring  to  the  early  part  of  the  seventeenth  century, 
there  is  mention  of  '  ane  inventorie  of  the  gudes  and  geir  whilk  pertenit  to  Dame  Lilias 
Ruthven,  Lady  Drummond,'  which  includes  as  an  item,  'the  black  boy  and  the  papingoe 
[peacock] ;'  in  so  humble  an  association  was  it  then  thought  proper  to  place  a  human  being 
who  chanced  to  possess  a  dark  skin. 


OLD   BANK   CLOSE. 


S3 


celebrated  Sir  Thomas  Hope,  King's  Advocate  in  the  reign  of 
Charles  I. 

The  house  of  oldest  date  in  the  close  was  one  on  the  west 
side,  of  substantial  and  even  handsome  appearance,  long  and 
lofty,  and  presenting*  some  peculiarities  of  structure  nearly 
unique  in  our  city.     There  was  first  a  door  for  the  ground-floor, 


House  of  Robert  Gourlay. 

about  which  there  was  nothing  remarkable.  Then  there  was  a 
door  leading  by  a  stair  to  "Csxt  first  floor,  and  bearing  this  legend 
and  date  upon  the  architrave  : 

IN   THE  IS  AL  MY  TRAIST  :    1 569. 

Close  beside  this  door  was  another,  leading  by  a  longer,  but 
distinct,  though  adjacent  stair,  to  the  second  floor,  and  pre- 
senting on  the  architrave  the  initials  R.  G.  From  this  floor 
there  was  an  internal  stair  contained  in  a  projecting  turret, 
which  connected  it  with  the  higher  floor.  Thus,  it  will  be 
observed,  there  were  three  houses  in  this  building,  each  having 
a  distinct  access ;  a  nicety  of  arrangement  which,  together  with 
the  excellence  of  the  masonry,  was  calculated  to  create  a  more 


84  TRADITIONS   OF  EDINBURGH. 

respectful  impression  regarding  the  domestic  ideas  of  our 
ancestors  in  Queen  Mary's  time  than  most  persons  are  prepared 
for.  Finally,  in  the  triangular  space  surmounting  an  attic 
window  were  the  initials  of  a  married  couple,  D.  G.,  M.  S. 

Our  surprise  is  naturally  somewhat  increased  when  we  learn 
that  the  builder  and  first  possessor  of  this  house  does  not 
appear  to  have  been  a  man  of  rank,  or  one  likely  to  own 
unusual  wealth.  His  name  was  Robert  Gourlay,  and  his 
profession  a  humble  one  connected  with  the  law — namely,  that 
of  a  messenger-at-arms.  In  the  second  book  of  Charters  in  the 
Canongate  council-house,  Adam  Bothwell,  Bishop  of  Orkney, 
and  commendator  of  Holyrood,  gave  the  office  of  messenger  or 
officer-at-arms  to  the  Abbey  to  Robert  Gourlay,  messenger,  '  our 
lovit  familiar  servitor,'  vnth  a  salary  of  forty  pounds,  and  other 
perquisites.  This  was  the  Robert  Gourlay  who  built  the  noble 
tenement  in  the  Old  Bank  Close;  and  through  his  official 
functions  it  came  into  connection  with  an  interesting  historical 
event.  In  May  1581,  when  the  ex-Regent  Morton  was  brought 
to  Edinburgh  to  suffer  death,  he  was — as  we  learn  from  the 
memoirs  of  Moyses,  a  contemporary — 'lodged  in  Robert 
Gourlay's  house,  and  there  keeped  by  the  waged  men.' 
Gourlay  had  been  able  to  accommodate  in  his  house  those 
whom  it  was  his  professional  duty  to  take  in  charge  as  prisoners. 
Here,  then,  must  have  taken  place  those  remarkable  conferences 
between  Morton  and  certain  clergymen,  in  which,  with  the 
prospect  of  death  before  him,  he  protested  his  innocence  of 
Darnley's  death,  while  confessing  to  a  foreknowledge  of  it. 
Morton  must  have  resided  in  the  house  from  May  29,  when  he 
arrived  in  Edinburgh,  till  June  2,  when  he  fell  under  the  stroke 
of  the  Maiden.  In  the  ensuing  year,  as  we  learn  from  the 
authority  just  quoted,  De  la  Motte,  the  French  ambassador, 
was  lodged  in  '  Gourlay's  House.' 

David  Gourlay — probably  the  individual  whose  initials 
appeared  on  the  attic — described  as  son  of  John  Gourlay, 
customer,  and  doubtless  grandson  of  the  first  man  Robert — 
disposed  of  the  house  in  1637  to  Sir  Thomas  Hope  of  Craighall 


OLD   BANK  CLOSE.  85 

in  liferent,  and  to  his  second  son,  Sir  Thomas  Hope  of  Kerse. 
We  may  suppose  'the  Advocate'  to  have  thus  provided  a 
mansion  for  one  of  his  children.  A  grandson  in  1696  disposed 
of  the  upper  floor  to  Hugh  Blair,  merchant  in  Edinburgh — the 
grandfather,  I  presume,  of  the  celebrated  Dr  Hugh  Blair. 

This  portion  of  the  house  was  occupied  early  in  the  last 
century  by  Lord  Aberuchil,  one  of  King  William's  judges, 
remarkable  for  the  large  fortune  he  accumulated.  About  1780, 
his  descendant,  Sir  James  Campbell  of  Aberuchil,  resided  in  it 
while  educating  his  family.  It  was  afterwards  occupied  by 
Robert  Stewart,  writer,  extensively  known  in  Perthshire  by  the 
name  of  Rob  Uncle,  on  account  of  the  immense  number  of  his 
nephews  and  nieces,  amongst  the  former  of  whom  was  the  late 
worthy  General  Stewart  of  Garth,  author  of  the  work  on  the 
Highland  regiments. 

The  building  used  by  the  bank  was  also  a  substantial  one. 
Over  the  architrave  was  the  legend  : 

SPES  ALTERA  VITiE, 

with  a  device  emblematising  the  resurrection — namely,  a  couple 
of  cross-bones  with  wheat-stalks  springing  from  them,  and  the 
date  1588,  Latterly,  it  was  occupied  as  the  University  Printing- 
office,  and  when  I  visited  it  in  1824,  it  contained  an  old  wooden 
press,  which  was  believed  to  be  the  identical  one  which  Prince 
Charles  carried  with  him  from  Glasgow  to  Bannockbum  to  print 
his  gazettes,  but  then  used  as  a  proof-press,  like  a  good  hunter 
reduced  to  the  sand-cart.  This  house  was  removed  in  1834, 
having  been  previously  sold  by  the  Commissioners  of  Improve- 
ments for  ^^150.  The  purchaser  got  a  larger  sum  for  a  leaden 
roof  unexpectedly  found  upon  it.  When  the  house  was  demol- 
ished, it  was  discovered  that  every  window-shutter  had  a  com- 
munication by  wires  with  an  intricate  piece  of  machinery  in  the 
garret,  designed  to  operate  upon  a  bell  hung  at  a  comer  on  the 
outside,  so  that  not  a  window  could  have  been  forced  without 
giving  an  alarm. 

In  the  Cowgate,  little  more  than  fifty  yards  from  the  site  of 


86  TRADITIONS   OF  EDINBURGH. 

this  building,  there  is  a  bulky  old  mansion,  believed  to  have 
been  the  residence  of  the  celebrated  King's  Advocate  Hope, 
himself,  the  ancestor  of  all  the  considerable  men  of  this  name 
now  in  Scotland.  One  can  easily  see,  amidst  all  the  disgrace 
into'  which  it  has  fallen,  something  remarkable  in  this  house, 
with  two  entrances  from  the  street,  and  two  porte-cocheres  leading 
to  other  accesses  in  the  rear.     Over  one  door  is  the  legend : 

TECUM    HABITA  :    1616  ; 

over  the  other  a  half-obliterated  line,  known  to  have  been 

AT  HOSPES   HUMO. 

One  often  finds  significant  voices  proceeding  from  the  builders 
of  these  old  houses,  generally  to  express  humility.  Sir  Thomas 
here  quotes  a  well-known  passage  in  Persius,  as  if  to  tell  the 
beholder  to  confine  himself  to  a  criticism  of  his  own  house ;  and 
then,  with  more  certain  humility,  uses  a  passage  of  the  Psalms 
(cxix.  19):  'I  am  a  stranger  upon  earth,'  the  latter  being  an 
anagram  of  his  own  name,  thus  spelt :  Thomas  Houpe.  It  is 
impossible,  without  a  passing  sensation  of  melancholy,  to  behold 
this  house,  and  to  think  how  truly  the  obscurity  of  its  history, 
and  the  wretchedness  into  which  it  has  fallen,  realise  the 
philosophy  of  the  anagram.  Verily,  the  great  statesman  who 
once  lived  here  in  dignity  and  the  respect  of  men,  was  but  as 
a  stranger  who  tarried  in  the  place  for  a  night,  and  was 
gone. 

The  Diary  of  Sir  Thomas  Hope,  printed  for  the  Bannatyne 
Club  (1843),  is  a  curious  record  of  the  public  duties  of  a  great 
law-officer  in  the  age  to  which  it  refers,  as  well  as  of  the  mixture 
of  worldly  and  spiritual  things  in  which  the  venerable  dignitary 
was  engaged.  He  is  indefatigable  in  his  rehgious  duties,  and 
his  endeavours  to  advance  the  interests  of  his  family;  at  the 
same  time  full  of  kindly  feeling  about  his  sons'  wives  and  their 
little  family  matters,  never  failing,  for  one  thing,  to  tell  how 
much  the  midwife  got  for  her  attendance  on  these  ladies.  There 
are  many  passages  respecting  his  prayers,  and  the  *  answers '  he 
obtained  to  them,  especially  during  the  agonies  of  the  opening 


CHIESLY  OF   DALRY.  87 

civil  war.  He  prays,  for  instance,  that  the  Lord  would  pity  his 
people,  and  then  hears  the  words :  '  I  will  preserve  and  saiff  my 
people' — 'but  quhither  be  me  or  some  other,  I  dar  not  say.' 
On  another  occasion,  at  the  time  when  the  Covenanting  army 
was  mustering  for  Dunse  Law  to  oppose  King  Charles,  Sir 
Thomas  tells  that,  praying :  '  Lord,  pitie  thy  pure  [i.e.  poor] 
kirk,  for  their  is  no  help  in  man  ! '  he  heard  a  voice  saying :  '  I 
will  pitie  it;'  'for  quhilk  I  blissit  the  Lord:'  immediately  after 
which  he  goes  on  :  '  Lent  to  John  my  ^on^  carabi7i  of  rowet  wark 
all  indentit ; '  &c. 

The  Countess  of  Mar,  daughter  of  Esme,  Duke  of  Lennox, 
died  of  a  deadly  brash  in  Sir  Thomas's  house  in  the  Cowgate, 
May  II,  1644. 

It  is  worthy  of  notice  that  the  Hopes  are  one  of  several 
Scottish  families,  possessing  high  rank  and  great  wealth,  which 
trace  their  descent  to  merchants  in  Edinburgh.  'The  Hopes 
are  of  French  extraction,  from  Picardy.  It  is  said  they  were 
originally  Houblon,  and  had  their  name  from  the  plant  [hop], 
and  not  from  esperance  [the  virtue  in  the  mind].  The  first  that 
came  over  was  a  domestic  of  Magdalene  of  France,  queen  of 
James  V. ;  and  of  him  are  descended  all  the  eminent  families  of 
Hopes,  This  John  Hope  set  up  as  a  merchant  of  Edinburgh, 
and  his  son,  by  Bessie  or  Elizabeth  Cumming,  is  marked  as  a 
member  of  our  first  Protestant  General  Assembly,  anno  1560.'* 

CHIESLY   OF   DALRY. 

The  head  of  the  Old  Bank  Close  was  the  scene  of  the  assassi- 
nation of  President  Lockhart  by  Chiesly  of  Dairy,  March  1689. 
The  murderer  had  no  provocation  -besides  a  simple  judicial  act 
of^  the  president,  assigning  an  aliment  or  income  of  ^^93  out  of 
his  estate  to  his  wife  and  children,  from  whom  it  may  be  pre- 
sumed he  had  been  separated.  He  evidently  was  a  man  abandoned 
to   the   most  violent   passions — perhaps   not  quite   sane.      In 

*  See  a  Memoir  by  Sir  Archibald  Steuart  Denham,  in  the  publications  of  the  Maitland 
Club. 


88  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

London,  half  a  year  before  the  deed,  he  told  Mr  Stuart,  an 
advocate,  that  he  was  resolved  to  go  to  Scotland  before  Candle- 
mas and  kill  the  president ;  when,  on  Stuart  remarking  that  the 
very  imagination  of  such  a  thing  was  a  sin  before  God,  he 
replied:  'Let  God  and  me  alone;  we  have  many  things  to  reckon 
betwixt  us,  and  we  will  reckon  this  too.'  The  judge  was  informed 
of  the  menaces  of  Chiesly,  but  despised  them. 

On  a  Sunday  afternoon,  the  last  day  of  March — the  town 
being  then  under  the  excitement  of  the  siege  of  the  castle  by  the 
friends  of  the  new  government — Lockhart  was  walking  home 
from  church  to  his  house  in  this  alley,  when  Chiesly  came  behind, 
just  aS  he  entered  the  close,  and  shot  him  in  the  back  with  a 
pistol.  A  Dr  Hay,  coming  to  visit  the  president's  lady,  saw  his 
lordship  stagger  and  fall.  The  ball  had  gone  through  the  body, 
and  out  at  the  right  breast.  He  was  taken  into  his  house,  laid 
down  upon  two  chairs,  and  almost  immediately  was  a  dead  man. 
Some  gentlemen  passing  seized  the  murderer,  who  readily  owned 
he  had  done  the  deed,  which  he  said  was  *  to  learn  the  president 
to  do  justice.'  When  immediately  after  informed  that  his  victim 
had  expired,  he  said  '  he  was  not  used  to  do  things  by  halves.' 
He  boasted  of  the  deed,  as  if  it  had  been  some  grand  exploit. 

After  torture  had  been  inflicted,  to  discover  if  he  had  any 
accomplices,  the  wretched  man  was  tried  by  the  magistrates  of 
Edinburgh,  and  sentenced  to  be  carried  on  a  hurdle  to  the  Cross, 
and  there  hanged,  with  the  fatal  pistol  hung  from  his  neck,  after 
which  his  body  was  to  be  suspended  in  chains  at  the  Gallow 
Lee,  and  his  right  hand  affixed  to  the  West  Port.  The  body 
was  stolen  from  the  gallows,  as  was  supposed,  by  his  friends, 
and  it  was  never  known  what  had  become  of  it,  till  more  than  a 
century  after,  when,  in  removing  the  hearth-stone  of  a  cottage 
in  Dairy  Park,  near  Edinburgh,  a  human  skeleton  was  found, 
with  the  remains  of  a  pistol  near  the  situation  of  the  neck.  No 
doubt  was  entertained  that  these  were  the  remains  of  Chiesly, 
huddled  into  this  place  for  concealment,  probably  in  the  course 
of  the  night  in  which  they  had  been  abstracted  from  the 
gallows. 


RICH  MERCHANTS   OF  THE  SIXTEENTH   CENTURY.  89 

RICH   MERCHANTS   OF   THE   SIXTEENTH   CENTURY — 
SIR   WILLIAM   DICK. 

Several  houses  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  Old  Bank  Close 
served  to  give  a  respectful  notion  of  the  wealth  and  domestic 
state  of  certain  merchants  of  an  early  age.  Immediately  to  the 
westward,  in  Brodie's  Close,  was  the  mansion  of  William  Little 
of  Liberton,  bearing  date  1570.  This  was  an  eminent  merchant, 
and  the  founder  of  a  family  now  represented  by  Mr  Little 
Gilmour  of  the  Inch,  in  whose  possession  this  mansion  continued 
under  entail  till  purchased  and  taken  down  by  the  Commissioners 
of  Improvements  in  1836.  About  1780,  it  was  the  residence  of 
the  notorious  Deacon  Brodie,  of  whom  something  may  be  said 
elsewhere.  Sir  William  Gray  of  Pittendrum,  mentioned  a  few 
pages  back  as  the  original  owner  of  the  old  house  in  Lady  Stair's 
Close,  was  another  affluent  trafficker  of  that  age. 

In  Riddel's  Close,  Lawnmarket,  there  is  an  enclosed  court, 
evidently  intended  to  be  capable  of  defence.  It  is  the  place 
where  John  Macmoran,  a  rich  merchant  of  the  time  of  James 
VI.,  lived  and  carried  on  his  business;.  In  those  days,  even 
school-boys  trusted  to  violence  for  attaining  their  ends.  The 
youths  of  the  High  School,  being  malcontent  about  their  holidays, 
barred  themselves  up  in  the  school  with  some  provisions,  and 
threatened  not  to  surrender  till  the  magistrates  should  comply 
with  their  demands.  John  Macmoran,  who  held  the  office  of 
one  of  the  bailies,  came  with  a  j^osse  to  deal  with  the  boys,  but, 
finding  them  obdurate,  ordered  the  door  to  be  prized  open  with 
a  joist.  One  within  then  fired  a  pistol  at  the  baUie,  who  fell 
shot  through  the  brain,  to  the  horror  of  all  beholders,  including 
the  school-boys  themselves,  who  with  difficulty  escaped  the 
vengeance  of  the  crowd  assembled  on  the  spot. 

It  was  ascertained  that  the  immediate  author  of  the  bailie's 
death  was  William  Sinclair,  son  of  the  chancellor  of  Caithness. 
There  was  a  great  clamour  to  have  justice  done  upon  him ;  but 
this  was  a  point  not  easily  attained,  where  a  person  of  gentle 
blood  was  concerned,  in  the  reign  of  James  VI.     The  boy  lived 


9© 


TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 


to  be  Sir  William  Sinclair  of  Mey,  and,  as  such,  was  the  ancestor 
of  those  who  have,  since  1789,  borne  the  title  of  Earls  of 
Caithness. 

A  visit  to  the  fine  old  mansion  of  Bailie  Macmoran  may  be 
recommended.  Its  masonry  is  not  without  elegance.  The  lower 
floor  of  the  building  is  now  used  as  '  The  Mechanics'  Library.' 
Macmoran's  house  is  in  the  floor  above,  reached  by  a  stone 
stair,  near  the  corner  of  the  court.  This  dwelling  offers  a  fine 
specimen  of  the  better  class  of  houses  at  the  end  of  the  sixteenth 
century.     The  marble  jambs  of  the  fireplaces,  and  the  carved 


House  of  Bailie  Macmoran. 


Stucco  ceilings,  are  quite  entire.  The  larger  room  (occu- 
pied as  a  warehouse  for  articles  of  saddlery)  is  that  in  which 
took  place  two  memorable  royal  banquets  in  1598 — the  first  on 
the  24th  of  April  to  James  VI.  with  his  queen,  Anne  of  Den- 
mark, and  her  brother  the  Duke  of  Holstein ;  and  the  second 
on  the  2d  of  May,  more  specially  to  the  Duke  of  Holstein,  but 
at  which  their  majesties  were  present.  These  banquets,  held, 
as  Birrel  says,  with  '  grate  solemnitie  and  mirrines,'  were  at  the 


WILLIAM   DICK.  9I 

expense  of  the  city.  It  need  hardly  be  said  that  James  VI. 
was  fond  of  this  species  of  entertainment,  and  the  house  of 
Macmoran  was  probably  selected  for  the  purpose,  not  only 
because  he  was  treasurer  to  the  corporation  and  a  man  of  some 
mark,  but  because  his  dwelling  offered  suitable  accommodation. 
The  general  aspect  of  the  enclosed  court  which  affords  access 
to  Macmoran's  house  has  undergone  little  or  no  alteration  since 
these  memorable  banquets;  and  in  visiting  the  place,  with  its 
quietude  and  seclusion,  oae  almost  feels  as  if  stepping  back  into 
the  sixteenth  century.  Considering  the  destruction  all  around 
from  city  improvements,  it  is  fortunate  that  this  remarkable 
specimen  of  an  old  mansion  should  have  been  left  so  singularly 
entire.  One  of  the  higher  windows  continues  to  exemplify  an 
economical  arrangement  which  prevailed  about  the  time  of  the 
Restoration — namely,  to  have  the  lower  half  composed  of 
wooden  shutters. 

The  grandest  of  all  these  old  Edinburgh  merchants  v/as 
William  Dick,  ancestor  of  the  Dicks,  baronets  of  Prestonfield. 
In  his  youth,  and  during  the  lifetime  of  his  father,  he  had  been 
able  to  lend  ;^6ooo  to  King  James,  to  defray  the  expense  of  his 
journey  to  Scotland.  The  affairs  in  which  he  was  engaged  would 
even  now  be  considered  important.  For  example,  he  fanned 
the  customs  on  wine  at  ^6222,  and  the  crown  rents  of  Orkney 
at  ;^3ooo.  Afterwards  he  farmed  the  excise.  His  fleets  extended 
from  the  Baltic  to  the  Mediterranean.  The  immense  wealth  he 
acquired  enabled  him  to  purchase  large  estates.  He  himself 
reckoned  his  property  as  at  one  time  equal  to  two  hundred 
thousand  pounds  sterling. 

Strange  to  say,  this  great  merchant  came  to  poverty,  and  died 
in  a  prison.  The  reader  of  the  Waverley  novels  may  remember 
David  Deans  telling  how  his  father  '  saw  them  toom  the  sacks  of 
dollars  out  o'  Provost  Dick'.",  window  infill  the  carts  that  carried 
them  to  the  army  at  Dunse  Law ' — '  if  ye  winna  believe  his  testi- 
mony, there  is  the  window  itsell  still  standing  in  the  Lucken- 
booths — I  think  it 's  a  claith-merchant's  buith  the  day.'  This 
refers  to  large  advances  which  Dick  made  to  the  Covenanters, 

G 


92  TRADITIONS   OF  EDINBURGH, 

to  enable  them  to  carry  on  the  war  against  the  king.  The 
house  alluded  to  is  actually  now  a  claith-merchant's  booth, 
having  long  been  in  the  possession  of  Messrs  John  Clapperton 
and  Company.  Two  years  after  Dunse  Law,  Dick  gave  the 
Covenanters  100,000  merks  in  one  sum.  Subsequently,  being, 
after  all,  of  royalist  tendencies,  he  made  still  larger  advances  in 
favour  of  the  Scottish  government  during  the  time  when  Charles 
II.  was  connected  with  it ;  and  thus  provoking  the  wrath  of  the 
English  Commonwealth,  his  ruin  was  completed  by  the  fines  to 
which  he  was  subjected  by  that  party  when  triumphant,  amount- 
ing in  all  to  ;^65,ooo. 

Poor  Sir  William  Dick — for  he  had  been  made  a  baronet  by 
Charles  I. — went  to  London  to  endeavour  to  recover  some  part 
of  his  lost  means.  Wlien  he  represented  the  indigence  to  which 
he  had  been  reduced,  he  was  told  that  he  was  always  able  to 
procure  pie-crust  when  other  men  could  not  get  bread.  There 
was,  in  fact,  a  prevalent  idea  that  he  possessed  some  supernatural 
means — such  as  the  philosopher's  stone — of  acquiring  money. 
(Pie-crust  came  to  be  called  Sir  William  Dick's  Necessity.)  The 
contrary  was  shewn  when  the  unfortunate  man  died  soon  after 
in  a  prison  in  Westminster.  There  is  a  picture  in  Prestonfield 
House,  near  Edinburgh,  the  seat  of  his  descendant,  representing 
him  in  this  last  retreat  in  a  mean  dress,  surrounded  by  his 
numerous  hapless  family.  A  rare  pamphlet,  descriptive  of  his 
case,  presents  engravings  of  three  such  pictures ;  one  exhibiting 
him  on  horseback,  attended  by  guards  as  Lord  Provost  of'  Edin- 
burgh, superintending  the  unloading  of  one  of  his  rich  ships  at 
Leith ;  another  as  a  prisoner  in  the  hands  of  the  bailiffs ;  the 
third  as  dead  in  prison.  A  more  memorable  example  of  the 
instability  of  fortune  does  not  occur  in  our  history.  It  seems 
completely  to  realise  the  picture  in  Job  (chap,  xxvii.) :  '  The  rich 
man  shall  lie  down,  but  he  shall  not  be  gathered :  he  openeth 
his  eyes,  and  he  is  not.  Terrors  take  hold  on  him  as  waters,  a 
tempest  stealeth  him  away  in  the  night.  The  east  wind  carrieth 
him  away,  and  he  departeth :  and  as  a  storm,  hurleth  him  out  of 
his  place.     For  God  shall  cast  upon  him,  and  not  spare:  he 


THE   BIRTH   OF   LORD   BROUGHAM.  ,  93, 

would  fain  flee  out  of  his  hand.     Men  shall  clap  their  hands  at 
him,  and  shall  hiss  him  out  of  his  place.' 

The  fortunes  of  the  family  were  restored  by  Sir  William's 
grandson,  Sir  James,  a  remarkably  shrewd  man,  who  was  like- 
wise a  merchant  in  Edinburgh.  There  is  a  traditionary  story 
that  this  gentleman,  observing  the  utility  of  manure,  and  that 
the  streets  of  Edinburgh  were  loaded  with  it,  to  the  detriment  of 
the  comfort  of  the  inhabitants,  offered  to  relieve  the  town  of  this 
nuisance,  on  condition  that  he  should  be  allowed,  for  a  certain 
term  of  years,  to  carry  it  away  gratis.  Consent  was  given,  and 
the  Prestonfield  estate  became,  in  consequence,  like  a  garden. 
The  Duke  of  York  had  a  great  affection  for  Sir  James  Dick,  and 
used  to  walk  through  the  Park  to  visit  him  at  his  house  very 
frequently.  Hence,  according  to  the  report  of  the  family,  the 
way  his  Royal  Highness  took  came  to  be  called  The  Dukis 
Walk  ;  afterwards  a  famous  resort  for  the  fighting  of  duels.  Sir 
James  became  Catholic,  and,  while  provost  in  1681,  had  his 
house  burned  over  his  head  by  the  coUegianers ;  but  it  was 
rebuilt,  as  it  now  stands,  at  the  public  expense.  His  grandson, 
Sir  Alexander  Dick,  is  referred  to  in  kindly  terms  in  Boswell's 
Tour  to  the  Hebrides,  as  a  venerable  man  of  studious  habits,  and 
a  friend  of  men  of  letters.  The  reader  will  probably  learn  with 
some  surprise  that,  though  Sir  William's  descendants  never 
recovered  any  of  the  money  lent  by  him  to  the  state,  a  lady  of 
his  family,  living  in  1844,  was  in  the  enjoyment  of  a  pension 
with  express  reference  to  that  ancient  claim. 

THE   BIRTH   OF   LORD    BROUGHAJI. 

[1868. — It  has  been  remarked  elsewhere  that,  for  a  great 
number  of  years  after  the  general  desertion  of  the  Old  Town  by 
persons  of  condition,  there  were  many  denizens  of  the  New  who 
had  occasion  to  look  back  to  the  Canongate  and  Cowgate  as 
the  place  of  their  birth.  The  nativity  of  one  person  who 
achieved  extraordinary  greatness  and  distinction,  and  whose 
death  was  an  occurrence  of  yesterday,  Henry,  Lord  Brougham, 
undoubtedly  was  connected  with  the  lowly  place  last 'mentioned. 


>g4  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

The  Edinburgh  tradition  on  the  subject  was  that  Henry 
Brougham,  younger  of  Brougham  Hall,  in  the  county  of 
Cumberland,  in  consequence  of  a  disappointment  in  love, 
came  to  Edinburgh  for  the  diversion  of  his  mind.  Principal 
Robertson,  to  whom  he  bore  a  letter  of  introduction,  recom- 
mended the  young  man  to  the  care  of  his  sister — Mrs  Syme, 
wadow  of  the  minister  of  Alloa — who  occupied  what  was 
then  considered  as  a  good  and  spacious  house,  at  the  head  of 
the  Cowgate — strictly  the  third  floor  of  the  house  now  marked 
No.  8— a  house  desirable  from  its  having  an  extraordinary  space 
in  front.  Here,  it  would  appear,  Mr  Brougham  speedily  con- 
soled himself  for  his  former  disappointment,  by  falling  in  love 
with  Eleonora,  the  daughter  of  Mrs  Syme;  and  a  marriage, 
probably  a  hurried  one,  soon  united  the  young  pair.  They  set 
up  for  themselves  (Whitsunday  1778)  in  an  upper-floor  of  a 
house  in  the  then  newly  built  St  Andrew  Square,  where,  in  the 
ensuing  September,  their  eldest  son,  charged  with  so  illustrious 
a  destiny,  first  saw  the  light* 

Mr  Brougham  conclusively  settled  in  Edinburgh;  he  subse- 
quently occupied  a  handsome  house  in  George  Street.  He  was 
never  supposed  to  be  a  man  of  more  than  ordinary  faculties ; 
but  any  deficiency  in  this  respect  was  amply  made  up  for  by  his 
wife,  who  is  represented  by  all  who  remember  her  as  a  person 
of  uncommon  mental  gifts.  The  contrast  of  the  pair  drew  the 
attention  of  society,  and  was  the  subject  of  a  gently  satiric 
sketch  in  Henry  Mackenzie's  Lounger,  No.  45,  published  on  the 
loth  December  1785,  which,  however,  would  vainly  be  looked 
for  in  the  reprinted  copies,  as  it  was  immediately  suppressed.] 

*  The  house  is  marked  No.  21.  Its  back  windows  enjoy  a  fine  view  of  the  Firth  of  Forth 
and  the  Fife  hills.  The  registration  of  his  lordship's  birth  appears  as  follows  :  'Wednesday, 
30th  September  1778,  Henry  Brougham,  Esq.,  parish  of  St  Gilles  (sic),  and  Eleonora 
Syme,  his  spouse,  a  son  born  the  igth  current,  named  Henry  Peter.  Witnesses,  Mr 
Archibald  Hope,  Royal  Bank,  and  Principal  Robertson.'  The  parts  of  the  New  Town 
thee  built  belonged  to  St  Giles's  parish. 


THE   OLD   TOLBOOTH. 


95 


THE   OLD   TOLBOOTH. 

The  genius  of  Scott  has  shed  a  peculiar  interest  upon  this 
ancient  structure,  whose  cant  name  of  the  Heart  of  Mid-Lothian 
has  given  a  title  to  one  of  his  happiest  novels.  It  stood  in  a 
singular  situation,  occuppng  half  the  width  of  the  High  Street, 
elbow  to  elbow,  as  it  were,  with  St  Giles's  Church,  Antique  in 
form,   gloomy  and  haggard   in   aspect,   its  black  stanchioned 


Mh  '3-  iJ  '  H 


-m^. 

The  Old  Tolbooth, 


windows  opening  through  its  dingy  walls  like  the  apertures  of  a 
hearse,  it  was  calculated  to  impress  all  beholders  with  a  due  and 
deep  sense  of  what  was  meant  in  Scottish  law  by  the  squalor 
carceris.  At  the  west  end  was  a  projecting  ground-floor,  formed 
of  shops,  but  presenting  a  platform  on  which  executions  took 
place.  The  building  itself  was  composed  of  two  parts,  one 
more  solid  and  antique  than  the  other,  and  much  resembling, 
with  its  turret  staircase,  one  of  those  tall  narrow  fortalices  which 


■96  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

are  so  numerous  in  the  Border  counties.  Indeed  the  probability 
is,  tliat  this  had  been  a  kind  of  peel  or  house  of  defence, 
required  for  public  purposes  by  the  citizens  of  Edinburgh,  when 
liable  to  predatory  invasions.  Doubtless,  the  house  or  some 
part  of  it  was  of  great  antiquity,  for  it  was  an  old  and  ruinous 
building  in  the  reign  of  Mary,  and  only  narrowly  saved  at  that 
time  from  destruction.  Most  likely  it  was  the  very  pretorium 
l/urgl  de  jEdinkirgi  in  which  a, -psirliaxnent  assembled  in  1438,  to 
deliberate  on  the  measures  rendered  necessary  by  the  assassina- 
tion of  the  poet-king,  James  I.  In  those  simple  days,  great  and 
humble  things  came  close  together :  the  house  which  contained 
parliaments  upstairs,  presented  shops  in  the  lower  story,  and 
thus  drew  in  a  little  revenue  to  the  magistrates.  Here  met  the 
Court  of  Session  in  its  earliest  years.  Here  Mary  assembled 
her  parliaments,  and  here — on  the  Tolbooth  door — did  citizens 
affix  libels  by  night,  charging  the  Earl  of  Bothwell  with  the 
murder  of  Darnley.  Long,  long  since,  all  greatness  had  been 
taken  away  from  the  old  building,  and  it  was  condemned  to  be 
a  jail  alone,  though  still  with  shops  underneath.  At  length,  in 
181 7,  the  fabric  was  wholly  swept  away,  in  consequence  of  the 
erection  of  a  better  jail  on  the  Calton  Hill.  The  gateway,  with 
the  door  and  padlock,  was  transferred  to  Abbotsford,  and,  with 
strange  taste  on  the  part  of  the  proprietor,  built  into  a  con- 
spicuous part  of  that  mansion. 

The  principal  entrance  to  the  Tolbooth,  and  the  only  one 
used  in  later  days,  was  at  the  bottom  of  the  turret  next  the 
church.  The  gateway  was  of  tolerably  good  carved  stone-work, 
and  occupied  by  a  door  of  ponderous  massiness  and  strength, 
having,  besides  the  lock,  a  flap-padlock,  which,  however,  was 
generally  kept  unlocked  during  the  day.  In  front  of  the  door 
there  always  paraded,  or  rather  loitered,  a  private  of  the  town- 
guard,  with  his  rusty  red  clothes,  and  Lochaber  axe  or  musket. 
The  door  adjacent  to  the  principal  gateway  was,  in  the  final 
days  of  the  Tolbooth,  '  Michael  Ketten's  Shoe-shop,'  but  had 
formerly  been  a  thiefs  hole.  The  next  door  to  that,  stepping 
westward,  was  the  residence  of  the  turnkey ;  a  dismal  unlighted 


THE    OLD  TOLBOOTH.  97 

den,  where  the  gray  old  man  was  always  to  be  found,  when  not 
engaged  in  unlocking  or  closing  the  door.  The  next  door  west- 
ward was  a  lock-up  house,  which  in  later  times  was  never  used. 
On  the  north  side,  towards  the  street,  there  had  once  been 
shops,  which  were  let  by  the  magistrates;  but  these  were  con- 
verte^d,  about  the  year  1787,  into  a  guard-house  for  the  city- 
guard,  on  their  ancient  capitol  in  the  High  Street  being 
destroyed  for  the  levelling  of  the  streets.  The  ground-floor, 
thus  occupied  for  purposes  in  general  remote  from  the  character 
of  the  building,  was  divided  lengthwise  by  a  strong  partition 
wall  j  and  communication  between  the  rooms  above  and  these 
apartments  below,  was  effectually  interdicted  by  the  strong 
arches  upon  which  the  superstructure  was  reared. 

On  passing  the  outer  door — where  the  rioters  of  1736  thun- 
dered with  their  sledge-hammers,  and  finally  burnt  down  all  that 
interposed  between  them  and  their  prey — the  keeper  instantly 
involved  the  entrant  in  darkness,  by  reclosing  the  gloomy  portal. 
A  flight  of  about  twenty  steps  then  led  to  an  inner  door,  which, 
being  duly  knocked  at,  was  opened  by  a  bottle-nosed  personage 
denominated  Peter,  who,  like  his  sainted  namesake,  always 
carried  two  or  three  large  keys.  You  then  entered  the  Hall^ 
which,  being  free  to  all  the  prisoners  except  those  of  the  East 
End,  was  usually  filled  with  a  crowd  of  shabby-looking,  but  very 
merry  loungers.  A  small  rail  here  served  as  an  additional 
security,  no  prisoner  being  permitted  to  come  within  its  pale. 
Here  also  a  sentinel  of  the  city-guard  was  always  walking, 
having  a  bayonet  or  ramrod  in  his  hand.  The  Hall,  being  also 
the  chapel  of  the  jail,  contained  an  old  pulpit  of  singular  fashion 
— such  a  pulpit  as  one  could  imagine  John  Knox  to  have 
preached  from ;  which,  indeed,  he  was  traditionally  said  to  have 
actually  done.  At  the  right-hand  side  of  the  pulpit  was  a  door 
leading  up  the  large  turnpike  to  the  apartments  occupied  by  the 
criminals,  one  of  which  was  of  plate-iron.  The  door  was  alw^ays 
shut,  except  when  food  was  taken  up  to  the  prisoners.  On  the 
west  end  of  the  hall  hung  a  board,  on  which  were  inscribed  the 
following  emphatic  lines : 


g8  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

'  A  prison  is  a  house  of  care, 

A  place  where  none  can  thrive, 
A  touchstone  true  to  try  a  friend, 
A  grave  for  men  alive — 

Sometimes  a  place  of  right, 

Sometimes  a  place  of  wrong, 
Sometimes  a  place  for  jades  and  thieves, 

And  honest  men  among.'  * 

A  part  of  tlie  hall  on  the  north  side  was  partitioned  off  into 
two  small  rooms,  one  of  which  was  the  captain's  pantry,  the 
other  his  counting-room.  In  the  latter  hung  an  old  musket  or 
two,  a  pair  of  obsolete  bandoleers,  and  a  sheath  of  a  bayonet, 
intended,  as  one  might  suppose,  for  his  defence  against  a 
mutiny  of  the  prisoners.  Including  the  space  thus  occupied, 
the  hall  was  altogether  twenty-seven  feet  long  by  about  twenty 
broad.  The  height  of  the  room  was  twelve  feet.  Close  to  the 
door,  and  within  the  rail,  was  a  large  window,  thickly  stan- 
chioned, and  at  the  other  end  of  the  hall,  within  the  captain's 
two  rooms,  was  a  double  window,  of  a  somewhat  extraordinary 
character.  Tradition,  supported  by  the  appearance  of  the 
place,  pointed  out  this  as  having  formerly  been  a  door  by 
which  royalty  entered  the  hall,  in  the  days  when  it  was  the 
Parliament  House.  It  is  said  that  a  kind  of  bridge  was  thrown 
between  this  aperture  and  a  house  on  the  other  side  of  the 
street,  and  that  the  sovereign,  having  prepared  himself  in  that 
house  to  enter  the  hall  in  his  state  robes,  proceeded  at  the 
proper  time  along  the  arch — an  arrangement  by  no  means 
improbable  in  those  days  of  straitened  accommodation. 

The  window  on  the  south  side  of  the  hall  overlooked  the 
outer  gateway.  It  was  therefore  employed  by  the  inner  turnkey 
as  a  channel  of  communication  with  his  exterior  brother  when 
any  visitor  was  going  out.  He  used  to  ciy  ovei"  this  window,  in 
the  tone  of  a  military  order  upon  parade :  '  Turn  your  hand^ 

*  These  verses  are  to  be  found  in  a  curious  volume,  which  appeared  in  London  in  1618, 
under  the  title  oi  Essayes  and  Characters  of  a  Prison  and  Prisoners,  by  Geffray  Mjmshul, 
of  Grayes  Inn,  Gent.  Reprinted,  1821,  by  W.  &  C.  Tait,  Edinburgh.  The  lines  were 
applied  specially  to  the  King's  Bench  Prison. 


THE   OLD   TOLBOOTH.  99 

whereupon  the  gray-haired  man  on  the  pavement  below  opened 
the  door  and  permitted  the  visitor,  who  by  this  time  had 
descended  the  stair,  to  walk  out. 

The  floor  immediately  above  the  hall  was  occupied  by  one 
room  for  felons,  having  a  bar  along  part  of  the  floor,  to  which 
condemned  criminals  were  chained,  and  a  square  box  of  plate- 
iron  in  the  centre,  called  the  cage,  which  .was  said  to  have 
been  constructed  for  the  purpose  of  confining  some  extra- 
ordinary culprit,  who  had  broken  half  the  jails  in  the  kingdom. 
Above  this  room  was  another  of  the  same  size,  also  appro- 
priated to  felons. 

The  larger  and  western  part  of  the  edifice,  of  coarser,  and 
apparently  more  modem  construction,  contained  four  floors,  all 
of  which  were  appropriated  to  the  use  of  debtors,  except  a  part 
of  the  lowest  one,  where  a  middle-aged  woman  kept  a  tavern  for 
the  sale  of  malt  liquors.  A  turnpike  stair  gave  access  to  the 
different  floors.  As  it  was  narrow,  steep,  and  dark,  the  visitor 
was  assisted  in  his  ascent  by  a  greasy  rope,  which,  some  one 
was  sure  to  inform  him  afterwards,  had  been  employed  in 
hanging  a  criminal.  In  one  of  the  apartments  on  the  second 
floor,  was  a  door  leading  out  to  the  platform  v/hereon  criminals 
were  executed,  and  in  another  on  the  floor  above,  was  an  ill- 
plastered  part  of  the  wall,  covering  the  aperture  through  which 
the  gallows  was  projected.  The  fourth  flat  was  a  kind  of 
barrack,  for  the  use  of  the  poorest  debtors. 

There  was  something  about  the  Old  Tolbooth  which  would 
have  enabled  a  blindfolded  person,  led  into  it,  to  say  that  it  was 
a  jail.  It  was  not  merely  odorous  from  the  ordinary  causes  of 
imperfect  drainage,  but  it  had  poverty's  own  smell — the  odour 
of  human  misery.  And  yet  it  did  not  seem  at  first  a  downcast 
scene.  The  promenaders  in  the  hall  were  sometimes  rather 
merry,  cutting  jokes  perhaps  upon  Peter's  nose,  or  chatting  ^vith 
friends  on  the  benches  regarding  the  news  of  the  day.  Then 
Mrs  Laing  drove  a  good  trade  in  her  little  tavern ;  and  if  any 
messenger  were  sent  out  for  a  bottle  of  whisky — why,  Peter 
never  searched  pockets.     New  men  were  hailed  with  : 


100  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

'  Welcome,  welcome,  brother  debtor, 

To  this  poor  but  merry  place  ; 

Here  nor  bailiff,  dun,  nor  fetter, 

Dare  to  shew  his  gloomy  face. 

They  would  be  abashed  at  first,  and  the  first  visit  of  wife  or 
daughter,  coming  shawled  and  veiled,  and  with  timorous 
glances,  into  the  room  where  the  loved  object  was  trying  to 
become  at  ease  with  his  companions,  was  always  a  touching 
affair.  But  it  was  surprising  how  soon,  in  general,  all  became 
familiar,  easy,  and  even  to  appearance  happy.  Each  had  his 
story  to  tell,  and  sympathy  was  certain  and  liberal.  The  whole 
management  was  of  a  good-natured  kind,  as  far  as  a  regard  to 
regulations  would  allow.  It  did  not  seem  at  all  an  impossible 
thing  that  a  debtor  should  accommodate  some  even  more 
desolate  friend  with  a  share  of  his  lodging  for  the  night,  or 
for  many  nights,  as  is  said  to  have  been  done  in  some  noted 
instances,  to  which  we  shall  presently  come. 

It  was  natural  for  a  jail  of  such  old  standing  to  have  passed 
through  a  great  number  of  odd  adventures,  and  have  many 
strange  tales  connected  with  it.  One  of  the  most  remarkable 
.traits  of  its  character  was  a  sad  liability  to  the  failure  of  its 
ordinary  powers  of  retention  when  men  of  figure  were  in 
question.  The  old  house  had  something  like  that  faculty 
attributed  by  Falstafif  to  the  lion  and  himself — of  knowing  men 
who  ought  not  to  be  too  roughly  handled.  The  consequence 
was,  that  almost  every  criminal  of  rank  donfined  in  it  made  his 
escape.  Lord  Burleigh,  an  insane  peer,  who,  about  the  time  of 
the  Union,  assassinated  a  schoolmaster  who  had  married  a  girl  to 
whom  he  had  paid  improper  addresses,  escaped,  while  under 
sentence  of  death,  by  changing  clothes  with  his  sister.  Several 
of  the  rebel  gentlemen  confined  there  in  1716  were  equally 
fortunate;  a  fact  on  which  there  was  lately  thrown  a  flood  of 
light,  when  I  found,  in  a  manuscript  list  of  subscriptions  for  the 
relief  of  the  other  rebel  gentlemen  at  Carlisle,  the  name  of 
the  Guidman  of  the  Tolbooth — so  the  chief-keeper  was  called 
— down  for  a  good  sum.     I  am  uncertain  to  which  of  all  these 


THE   OLD   TOLBOOTH.  lOI 

personages  the  following  anecdote,  related  to  me  by  Sir  Walter 
Scott,  refers. 

It  was  contrived  that  the  prisoner  should  be  conveyed  out  of 
the  Tolbooth  in  a  trunk,  and  carried  by  a  porter  to  Leith, 
where  some  sailors  were  to  be  ready  with  a  boat  to  take  him 
aboard  a  vessel  about  to  leave  Scotland.  The  plot  succeeded 
so  far  as  the  escape  from  jail  was  concerned,  but  was  knocked 
on  the  head  by  an  unlucky  and  most  ridiculous  accident.  It 
so  happened  that  the  porter,  in  arranging  the  trunk  upon  his 
back,  placed  the  end  which  corresponded  with  the  feet  of  the 
prisoner  uppermost.  The  head  of  the  unfortunate  man  was 
therefore  pressed  against  the  lower  end  of  the  box,  and  had  to 
sustain  the  weight  of  the  whole  body.  The  posture  was  the 
most  uneasy  imaginable.  Yet  life  was  preferable  to  ease.  He 
permitted  himself  to  be  taken  away.  The  porter  trudged  along 
with  the  trunk,  quite  unconscious  of  its  contents,  and  soon 
reached  the  High  Street.  On  gaining  the  Netherbow,  he  met 
an  acquaintance,  who  asked  him  where  he  was  going  with  that 
large  burden.  To  Leith,  was  the  answer.  The  other  inquired 
if  the  job  was  good  enough  to  afford  a  potation  before  pro- 
ceeding farther  upon  so  long  a  journey.  This  being  replied  to 
in  the  affirmative,  and  the  carrier  of  the  box  feeling  in  his  throat 
the  philosophy  of  his  friend's  inquiry,  it  was  agreed  that  they 
should  adjourn  to  a  neighbouring  tavern.  Meanwhile,  the  third 
party,  whose  inclinations  had  not  been  consulted  in  this  arrange- 
ment, was  wishing  that  it  were  at  once  well  over  with  him  in 
the  Grassmarket.  But  his  agonies  were  not  destined  to  be  of 
long  duration.  The  porter,  in  depositing  him  upon  the  cause- 
way, happened  to  make  the  end  of  the  trunk  come  down  with 
such  precipitation,  that,  unable  to  bear  it  any  longer,  the 
prisoner  screamed  out,  and  immediately  after  fainted.  The  con- 
sternation of  the  porter,  on  hearing  a  noise  from  his  burden, 
was  of  course  excessive;  but  he  soon  recovered  presence  of 
mind  enough  to  conceive  the  occasion.  He  proceeded  to 
unloose  and  to  burst  open  the  trunk,  when  the  hapless  noble- 
man was  discovered  in  a  state  of  insensibility.      As  a  crowd 


102  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

collected  immediately,  and  the  city-guard  were  not  long  in 
coming  forward,  there  was  of  course  no  further  chance  of 
escape.  The  prisoner  did  not  recover  from  his  swoon  till  he 
had  been  safely  deposited  in  his  old  quarters ;  but,  if  I  recollect 
rightly,  he  eventually  escaped  in  another  way. 

In  two  very  extraordinary  instances  an  escape  from  justice 
has,  strange  as  it  may  appear,  been  effected  by  meam  of  the 
Old  Tolbooth.  At  the  discovery  of  the  Rye-House  Plot,  iuv 
the  reign  of  Charles  II.,  the  notorious  Robert  Fergusson, 
usually  styled  'The  Plotter,'  was  searched  for  in  Edinburgh, 
with  a  view  to  his  being  subjected,  if  possible,  to  the  extreme 
vengeance  of  the  law.  .  It  being  kno^vn  almost  certainly  that  he 
was  in  town,  the  authorities  shut  the  gates,  and  calculated 
securely  upon  having  him  safe  within  their  toils.  The  Plotter, 
however,  by  an  expedient  worthy  of  his  ingenious  character, 
escaped  by  taking  refuge  in  the  Old  Tolbooth.  A  friend  of  his 
happened  to  be  confined  there  at  the  time,  and  was  able  to 
afford  protection  and  concealment  to  Fergusson,  who,  at  his 
leisure,  came  abroad,  and  betook  himself  to  a  place  of  safer 
shelter  on  the  continent.  The  same  device  was  practised  in 
1746  by  a  gentleman  who  had  been  concerned  in  the  Rebellion, 
and  for  whom  a  hot  search  had  been  carried  on  in  the  High- 
lands. 

The  case  of  Katherine  Naime,  in  1766,  excited  in  no  small 
degree  the  attention  of  the  Scottish  public.  This  lady  was  allied, 
both  by  blood  and  marriage,  to  some  respectable  families.  Her 
crime  was  the  double  one  of  poisoning  her  husband,  and  having 
an  intrigue  with  his  brother,  who  was  her  associate  in  the  murder. 
On  her  arrival  a,t  Leith  in  an  open  boat,  her  whole  bearing 
betrayed  so  much  levity,  or  was  so  different  from  what  had  been 
expected,  that  the  mob  raised  a  cry  of  indignation,  and  were  on 
the  point  of  pelting  her,  when  she  was  with  some  difficulty 
rescued  from  their  hands  by  the  public  authorities.  In  this  case 
the  Old  Tolbooth  found  itself,  as  ustial,  incapable  of  retaining  a 
culprit  of  condition.  Sentence  had  been  delayed  by  the  judges, 
on  account  of  the  lady's  pregnancy.     The  midwife  employed  at 


THE   OLD  TOLBOOTH.  I03 

her  accouchement  (who  continued  to  practise  in  Edinburgh  so 
lately  as  the  year  1805)  had  the  address  to  achieve  a  jail-delivery 
also.  For  three  or  four  days  previous  to  that  concerted  for  the 
escape,  she  pretended  to  be  afflicted  with  a  prodigious  toothache; 
went  out  and  in  with  her  head  enveloped  in  shawls  and  flannels ; 
and  groaned  as  if  she  had  been  about  to  give  up  the  ghost.  At 
length,  when  the  Peter  of  that  day  had  become  so  habituated  to 
her  appearance,  as  not  very  much  to  heed  her  exits  and  her 
entrances,  Katherine  Nairne  one  evening  came  down  in  her 
stead,  with  her  head  wrapped  all  round  with  the  shawls,  uttering 
the  usual  groans,  and  holding  down  her  face  upon  her  hands,  as 
with  agony,  in  the  precise  way  customary  with  the  midwife. 
The  inner  doorkeeper,  not  quite  unconscious,  it  is  supposed,  of 
the  trick,  gave  her  a  hearty  thump  upon  the  back  as  she  passed 
out,  calling  her  at  the  same  time  a  howling  old  Jezebel,  and 
wishing  she  would  never  come  back  to  trouble  him  any  more. 
There  are  two  reports  of  the  proceedings  of  Katherine  Nairne 
after  leaving  the  prison.  One  bears  that  she  immediately  left 
the  town  in  a  coach,  to  which  she  was  handed  by  a  friend 
stationed  on .  purpose.  The  coachman,  k  is  said,  had  orders 
from  her  relations,  in  the  event  of  a  pursuit,  to  drive  into  the 
sea,  that  she  might  drown  herself — a  fate  which  was  considered 
preferable  to  the  ignominy  of  a  public  execution.  The  other 
story  runs,  that  she  went  up  the  Lawnmarket  to  the  Castle-hill, 

where  lived  Mr ,  a  respectable  advocate,  from  whom,  as  he 

was  her  cousin,  she  expected  to  receive  protection.  Being 
ignorant  of  the  town,  she  mistook  the  proper  house,  and  applied 
at  that  of  the  crown  agent,*  who  was  assuredly  the  last  man  in 
the  world  that  could  have  done  her  any  service.  As  good-luck 
would  have  it,  she  was  not  recognised  by  the  servant,  who  civilly 
directed  her  to  her  cousin's  house,  where  it  is  said  she  remained 
concealed  many  weeks.  Her  future  life,  it  has  been  reported, 
was  virtuous  and  fortunate.  She  was  married  to  a  French 
gentleman,  became  the  mother  of  a  large  family,  and  died  at  a 

*  A  large  white  house  near  the  Castle,  on  the  north  side  of  the  street,  and  now  {1868)  no 
mere. 


I04  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH.  ^ 

good  old  age.  Meanwhile,  Patrick  Ogilvie,  her  associate  in  the 
dark  crime  which  threw  a  shade  over  her  younger  years, .  suffered 

in  the  Grassmarket.      He  had  been  a  lieutenaht  in  the  

regiment,  and  was  so  much  beloved  by  his  fellow-soldiers,  who 
happened  to  be  stationed  at  that  time  in  Edinburgh  Castle,  that 
the  public  authorities  judged  it  necessary  to  shut  them  up  in 
that  fortress  till  the  execution  was  over,  lest  they  might  have 
attempted  a  rescue. 

The  Old  Tolbooth  was  the  scene  of  the  suicide  of  Mungo 
Campbell,  while  under  sentence  of  death  (1770)  for  shooting  the 
Earl  of  Eglintoune.  In  the  district  where  this  memorable  event 
took  place,  it  is  somewhat  remarkable  that  the  fate  of  the 
murderer  was  more  generally  lamented  than  that  of  the  murdered 
person.  Campbell,  though  what  was  called  '  a  graceless  man,' 
was  rather  popular  in  his  profession  of  exciseman,  on  account  of 
his  rough,  honourable  spirit,  and  his  lenity  in  the  matter  of 
smuggling.  Lord  Eglintoune,  on  the  contrary,  was  not  liked, 
on  account  of  his  improving  mania,  which  had  proved  a  serious 
grievance  to  the  old-fashioned  farmers  of  Kyle  and  Cunningham. 
There  was  one  article,  called  rye-grass,  which  he  brought  in 
amongst  them,  and  forced  them  to  cultivate ;  and  black  prelacy 
itself  had  hardly,  a  century  before,  been  a  greater  evil.  Then, 
merely  to  stir  them  up  a  little,  he  would  cause  them  to  exchange 
farms  with  each  other;  thus  giving  their  ancient  plenishings, 
what  was  doubtless  much  wanted,  an  airing,  but  also  creating  a 
strong  sense  that  Lord  Eglintoune  was  'far  ower  fashious.'  His 
lordship  had  excited  some  scandal  by  his  private  habits,  which 
helped  in  no  small  degree  to  render  unpopular  one  who  was  in 
reality  an  amiable  and  upright  gentleman.  He  was  likewise 
somewhat  tenacious  about  matters  respecting  game — the  besetting 
weakness  of  British  gentlemen  in  all  ages.  On  the  other  hand, 
Campbell,  though  an  austere  and  unsocial  man,  acted  according 
to  popular  ideas  both  in  respect  of  the  game  and  excise  laws. 
The  people  felt  that  he  was  on  their  side ;  they  esteemed  him 
for  his  integrity  in  the  common  affairs  of  life,  and  even  in  some 
degree  for  his  birth  and  connections,  which  were  far  from  mean. 


THE   OLD   TOLBOOTH.  I05 

It  was  also  universally  believed,  though  erroneously,  that  he  had 
only  discharged  his  gun  by  accident,  on  falling  backward,  while 
retreating  before  his  lordship,  who  had  determined  to  take  it 
from  him.  In  reality,  Mungo,  after  his  fall,  rose  on  his  elbow 
and  wilfully  shot  the  poor  earl,  who  had  given  him  additional 
provocation  by  bursting  into  a  laugh  at  his  awkward  fall.  The 
Old  Tolbooth  was  supposed  by  many,  at  the  time,  to  have  had 
her  usual  failing  in  Mungo's  case.  The  interest  of  the  Argyll 
family  was  said  to  have  been  employed  in  his  favour ;  and  the 
body  which  was  found  suspended  over  the  door,  instead  of  being 
his,  was  thought  to  be  that  of  a  dead  soldier  from  the  Castle, 
substituted  in  his  place.  His  relations,  however,  who  were  very 
respectable  people  in  Ayrshire,  all  acknowledged  that  he  died 
by  his  own  hand ;  and  this  was  the  general  idea  of  the  mob  of 
Edinburgh,  who,  getting  the  body  into  their  hands,  dragged  it 
down  the  street  to  the  King's  Park,  and,  inspired  by  different 
sentiments  from  those  of  the  Ayrshire  people,  were  not  satisfied 
till  they  got  it  up  to  the  top  of  Salisbury  Crags,  from  which  they 
precipitated  it  down  the  Cat  Nick. 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  criminals  ever  confined  in  the 
Old  Tolbooth  was  the  noted  William  Brodie.  This  was  a  man 
of  respectable  connections,  and  who  had  moved  in  good  society 
all  his  life,  unsuspected  of  any  criminal  pursuits.  It  is  said  that 
a  habit  of  frequenting  cock-pits  was  the  first  symptom  he 
exhibited  of  a  decline  from  rectitude.  His  ingenuity  as  a 
mechanic  gave  him  a  fatal  facility  in  the  burglarious  pursuits 
to  which  he  afterwards  addicted  himself.  It  was  then  customary 
for  the  shopkeepers  of  Edinburgh  to  hang  their  keys  upon  a 
nail  at  the  back  of  their  doors,  or  at  least  to  take  no  pains  in 
concealing  them  during  the  day.  Brodie  used  to  take  impressions 
of  them  in  putty  or  clay,  a  piece  of  which  he  would  carry  in  the 
palm  of  his  hand.  He  kept  a  blacksmith  in  his  pay,  who  forged 
exact  copies  of  the  keys  he  wanted,  and  with  these  it  was  his 
custom  to  open  the  shops  of  his  fellow-tradesmen  during  the 
night.  He  thus  found  opportunities  of  securely  stealing  whatever 
he  wished  to  possess.     He  carried  on  his  malpractices  for  many 


I06  TRADITIONS    OF   EDINBURGH. 

years,  and  never  was  suspected,  till,  having  committed  a  daring 
robbery  upon  the  Excise  Office  in  Chessels's  Court,  Canongate, 
some  circumstances  transpired,  which  induced  him  to  disappear 
from  Edinburgh.  Suspicion  then  becoming  strong,  he  was 
pursued  to  Holland,  and  taken  at  Amsterdam,  standing  upright 
in  a  press  or  cupboard.  At  his  trial,  Henry  Erskine,  his  counsel, 
spoke  very  eloquently  in  his  behalf,  representing,  in  particular, 
to  the  jury,  how  strange  and  improbable  a  circumstance  it  was, 
that  a  man  whom  they  had  themselves  known  from  infancy  as  a 
person  of  good  repute,  should  have  been  guilty  of  such  practices 
as  those  with  which  he  was  charged.  He  was,  however,  found 
guilt}',  and  sentenced  to  death,  along  with  his  accomplice  Smith. 
At  the  trial  he  had  appeared  in  a  full-dress  suit  of  black  clothes, 
the  greater  part  of.  which  was  of  silk,  and  his  deportment 
throughout  the  affair  was  composed  and  gentlemanlike.  He 
continued  during  the  period  which  intervened  between  his 
sentence  and  execution  to  dress  well,  and  keep  up  his  spirits. 
A  gentleman  of  his  acquaintance,  calling  upon  him  in  the 
condemned  room,  was  surprised  to  find  him  singing  the  song 
from  the  Beggars'  Opera,  '  'Tis  woman  seduces  all  mankind.' 
Having  contrived  to  cut  out  the  figure  of  a  draughtboard  on  the 
stone  floor  of  his  dungeon,  he  amused  himself  by  playing  -svith 
any  one  who  would  join  him,  and,  in  default  of  such,  with  his 
right  hand  against  his  left.  This  diagram  remained  in  the  room 
where  it  was  so  strangely  out  of  place  till  the  destruction  of  the 
jail.  His  dress  and  deportment  at  the  gallows  (October  i,  1788) 
displayed  a  mind  at  ease,  and  gave  some  countenance  to  the 
popular  notion  that  he  had  made  certain  mechanical  arrange- 
ments for  saving  his  life.  Brodie  was  the  first  who  proved  the 
excellence  of  an  improvement  he  had  formerly  made  on  the 
apparatus  of  the  gibbet.  This  was  the  substitution  of  what  is 
called  the  drop,  for  the  ancient  practice  of  the  double  ladder. 
He  inspected  the  thing  with  a  professional  air,  and  seemed  to 
view  the  result  of  his  ingenuity  with  a  smile  of  satisfaction. 
When  placed  on  that  insecure  pedestal,  and  while  the  rope  was 
adjusted  round  his  neck  by  the  executioner,  his  courage  did  not 


THE   OLD   TOLBOOTH,  I07 

forsake  him.  On  the  contrary,  even  there  he  exhibited  a  sort  of 
levity ;  he  shuffled  about,  looked  gaily  around,  and  finally  went 
out  of  the  world  with  his  hand  stuck  carelessly  into  the  open 
front  of  his  vest. 

As  its  infirmities  increased  with  old  age,  the  Tolbooth  shewed 
itself  incapable  of  retaining  prisoners  of  even  ordinary  rank. 
Within  the  recollection  of  people  living  not  long  ago,  a  youth 
named  Hay,  the  son  of  a  stabler  in  the  Grassmarket,  and  who 
was  under  sentence  of  death  for  burglary,  effected  his  escape  in 
a  way  highly  characteristic  of  the  Heart  of  Mid-Lothian,  and  of 
the  simple  and  unprecise  system  upon  which  all  public  affairs 
were  managed  before  the  present  age. 

A  few  days  before  that  appointed  for  the  execution,  the  father 
went  up  to  the  condemned  room,  apparently  to  condole  with  his 
unhappy  son.  The  irons  had  been  previously  got  quit  of  by 
files.  At  nightfall,  when  most  visitors  had  left  the  jail,  old  Hay 
invited  the  inner  turnkey,  or  man  who  kept  the  hall-door,  to 
come  into  the  room  and  partake  of  some  liquor  which  he  had 
brought  with  him.  The  man  took  a  few  glasses,  and  became 
mellow  just  about  the  time  when  the  bottle  was  exhausted,  and 
when  the  time  of  locking  up  the  jail  (ten  o'clock  at  that  period) 
was  approaching.  Hay  expressed  unwillingness  to  part  at  the 
moment  when  they  were  just  beginning  to  enjoy  their  liquor;  a 
sentiment  in  which  the  turnkey  heartily  sympathised.  Hay 
took  a  crown  from  his  pocket,  and  proposed  that  his  friend 
slipuld  go  out  and  purchase  a  bottle  of  good  rum  at  a  neigh-  - 
bouring  shop.  The  man  consented,  and  staggering  away  down 
stairs,  neglected  to  lock  the  inner  door  behind  him.  Young 
Hay  followed  close,  as  had  been  concerted,  and  after  the  man 
had  gone  out,  and  the  outer  turnkey  had  closed  the  outer  door, 
stood  in  the  stair  just  within  that  dread  portal',  ready  to  spring 
into  the  street.  Old  Hay  then  put  his  head  to  the  great  window 
of  the  hall,  and  cried :  '  Turn  your  hand  ! ' — the  usual  drawling 
cry  which  brought  the  outer  turnkey  to  open  the  door.  The 
turnkey  came  mechanically  at  the  cry,  and  unclosed  the  outer 
door,  when  the  young  criminal  sprang  out,  and  ran  as  fast  as  he 

H 


108       ;  TRADITIONS   OF  EDINBURGH. 

could  down  Beth's  Wynd,  a  lane  opposite  the  jail.  According 
to  the  plan  which  had  been  previously  concerted,  he  repaired  to 
a  particular  part  of  the  wall  of  the  Greyfriars  Churchyard,  near 
the  lower  gate,  where  it  was  possible  for  an  agile  person  to 
climb  up  and  spring  over ;  and  so  well  had  every  stage  of  the 
business  been  planned,  that  a  large  stone  had  been  thrown 
down  at  this  place  to  facilitate  the  leap. 

The  youth  had  been  provided  with  a  key  which  could  open 
Sir  George  Mackenzie's  mausoleum — a  place  of  peculiar  horror, 
as  it  was  supposed  to  be  haunted  by  the  spirit  of  the  bloody 
persecutor;  but  what  will  not  be  submitted  to  for  dear  life? 
Having  been  brought  up  in  Heriot's  Hospital,  in  the  immediate 
neighbourhood  of  the  churchyard,  Hay  had  many  boyish 
acquaintances  still  residing  in  that  establishment.  Some  of 
these  he  contrived  to  inform  of  his  situation,  enjoining  them 
to  be  secret,  and  beseeching  them  to  assist  him  in  his  distress. 
The  Herioters  of  those  days  had  a  very  clannish  spirit — 
insomuch,  that  to  have  neglected  the  interests  or  safety  of  any 
individual  of  the  community,  however  unworthy  he  might  be  of 
their  friendship,  would  have  been  looked  upon  by  them  as  a  sin 
of  the  deepest  dye.  Hay's  confidants,  therefore,  considered 
themselves  bound  to  assist  him  by  all  means  in  their  power. 
They  kept  his  secret  faithfully,  spared  from  their  own  meals  as 
much  food  as  supported  him,  and  ran  the  risk  of  severe  punish- 
ment, as  well  as  of  seeing  eldritch  sights,  by  visiting  him  every 
night  in  his  dismal  abode.  About  six  weeks  after^  his  escape 
from  jail,  when  the  hue  and  cry  had  in  a  great  measure  subsided, 
he  ventured  to  leave  the  tomb,  and  it  was  afterwards  kno^vn 
that  he  escaped  abroad. 

So  ends  our  gossip  respecting  a  building  which  has  witnessed 
and  contained  the  meetings  of  the  Scottish  parliament  in  the 
romantic  days  of  the  Jameses — which  held  the  first  fixed  court 
of  law  established  in  the  country — ^which  was  looked  to  by  the 
citizens  in  a  rude  age  as  a  fortified  place  for  defence  against 
external  danger  to  their  lives  and  goods— which  has  immured 
in  its  gloomy  walls  persons  of  all  kinds  liable  to  law,  from  the 


SOME   MEMORIES   OF   THE   LUCKENBOOTHS.  I09 

gallant  Montrose,  and  the  faithful  Guthrie  and  Argyll,  down  to 
tiie  humblest  malefactor  in  the  modem  style  of  crime — and 
which,  finally,  has  been  embalmed  in  the  imperishable  pages  of 
the  greatest  writer  of  fiction  our  country  has  produced. 


SOME  MEMORIES   OF  THE   LUCKENBOOTHS. 

Lord  Coalstoun  and  his  Wig  —  Commendator  Both  well's  House — Lady 
Anne  Bothwell — Mahogany  Lands  and  Fore-stairs  —  The  Krames — • 
Creech's  Shop. 

A  PORTION  of  the  High  Street  facing  St  Giles's  Church  was  called 
the  Luckenbooths,  and  the  appellation  was  shared  with  a  middle 
row  of  buildings  which  once  burdened  the  street  at  that  spot. 
The  name  is  supposed  to  have  been  conferred  on  the  shops  in 
that  situation  as  being  close  shoJ>s,  to  distinguish  them  from  the 
open  booths  which  then  lined  our  great  street  on  both  sides ; 
lucken  signifying  closed.  This  would  seem  to  imply  a  certain 
superiority  in  the  ancient  merchants  of  the  Luckenbooths ;  and 
it  is  somewhat  remarkable  that,  amidst  all  the  changes  of  the 
Old  Town,  there  is  still,  in  this  limited  locality,  an  unusual 
proportion  of  mercers  and  clothiers  of  old  standing  and  reputed 
substantiality. 

Previous  to  1811,  there  remained  unchanged  in  this  place 
two  tall  massive  houses,  about  two  centuries  old,  one  of  which 
contained  the  town  mansion  of  Sir  John  Byres  of  Coates,  a 
gentleman  of  figure  in  Edinburgh  in  the  reign  of  James  VI., 
and  whose  faded  tombstone  may  yet  be  deciphered  in  the  west 
wall  of  the  Greyfriars  Churchyard.  The  Byreses  of  the  Coates 
died  out  towards  the  end  of  the  last  century,  and  their  estate 
has  since  become  a  site  for  streets,  as  our  city  spread  westwards. 
The  name  alone  survives,  in  connection  with  an  alley  beneath 
their  town  mansion — Byres' s  Close, 


no  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

LORD   COALSTOUN   AND    HIS  WIG. 

^^Mi  fourth  floor,  constituting  the  Byres  mansion,  after  being 
■occupied  by  such  persons  as  Lord  Coupar,  Lord  Lindores,  and 
Sir  James  Johnston  of  Westerhall,  fell  into  the  possession  of  Mr 
Brown  of  Coalstoun,  a  judge  under  the  designation  of  Lord 
Coalstoun,  and  the  father  of  the  late  Countess  of  Dalhousie. 
His  lordship  lived  here  in  1757,  but  then  removed  to  a  more 
spacious  mansion  on  the  Castle-hill. 

A  strange  accident  one  morning  befell  Lord  Coalstoun  while 
residing  in  this  house.  It  was  at  that  time  the  custom  for 
advocates,  and  no  less  for  judges,  to  dress  themselves  in  gown, 
wig,  and  cravat  at  their  own  houses,  and  to  walk  in  a  sort  of 
state,  thus  rigged  out,  with  their  cocked  hats  in  their  hands,  to 
the  Parliament  House.  They  usually  breakfasted  early,  and, 
when  dressed,  would  occasionally  lean  over  their  parlour 
windows,  for  a  few  minutes  before  St  Giles's  bell  sounded  the 
starting  peal  of  a  quarter  to  nine,  enjoying  the  morning  air, 
such  as  it  was,  and  perhaps  discussing  the  news  of  the  day,  or 
the  convivialities  of  the  preceding  evening,  with  a  neighbouring 
advocate  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  alley.  It  so  happened  that 
one  morning,  while  Lord  Coalstoun  was  preparing  to  enjoy  his 
matutinal  treat,  two  girls,  who  lived  in  the  second  floor  above, 
were  amusing  themselves  with  a  kitten,  which,  in  thoughtless 
sport,  they  had  swung  over  the  window  by  a  cord  tied  round  its 
middle,  and  hoisted  for  some  time  up  and  down,  till  the  creature 
was  getting  rather  desperate  with  its  exertions.  In  this  crisis  his 
lordship  popped  his  head  out  of  the  window  directly  below  that 
from  which  the  kitten  swung,  little  suspecting,  good  easy  man, 
what  a  danger  impended,  like  the  sword  of  Damocles,  over  his 
head,  hung,  too,  by  a  single — not  hair,  'tis  true,  but  scarcely 
more  responsible  material — garter,  when  down  came  the  exas- 
perated animal  at  full  career  directly  upon  his  senatorial  Avig. 
No  sooner  did  the  girls  perceive  what  sort  of  a  landing-place 
their  kitten  had  found,  than,  in  terror  and  surprise,  they  began 
to  draw  it  up ;  but  this  measure  was  now  too  late,  for  along 


COMMENDATOR   BOTHWELL'S    HOUSE.  Ill 

^vith  the  animal  up  also  came  the  judge's  wig,  fixed  fiill  in  its 
determined  talons.  His  lordship's  surprise  on  finding  his  wig 
lifted  off  his  head,  was  much  increased  when,  on  looking  up,  he 
perceived  it  dangling  its  way  upwards,  without  any  means, 
visible  to  him,  by  which  its  motions  might  be  accounted  for. 
The  astonishment,  the  dread,  the  almost  awe  of  the  senator 
below — the  half  mirth,  half  terror  of  the  girls  above — together 
^vith  the  fierce  and  relentless  energy  of  retention  on  the  part  of 
Puss  between — altogether  formed  a  scene  to  which  language 
could  not  easily  do  justice.  It  was  a  joke  soon  explained  and 
pardoned;  but  assuredly  the  perpetrators  of  it  did  afterwards 
get  many  lengthened  injunctions  from  their  parents  never  again 
to  fish  over  the  -window,  with  such  a  bait,  for  honest  men's 
wigs. 

COMMENDATOR   BOTHWELL's   HOUSE. 

The  eastern  of  the  tenements,  which  has  only  been  renovated 
by  a  new  front,  formerly  Avas  the  lodging  of  Adam  Bothwell, 
Commendator  of  Holyrood,  who  is  remarkable  for  having  per- 
formed the  Protestant  marriage-ceremony  for  Mary  and  the  Earl 
of  Bothwell.  This  ecclesiastic,  who  belonged  to  an  old  Edin- 
burgh family  of  note,  and  was  the  uncle  of  the  inventor  of 
Logarithms,  is  celebrated  in  his  epitaph  in  Holyrood  Chapel  as 
a  judge,  and  the  son  and  father  of  judges.  His  son  was  raised 
to  the  peerage  in  1607,  under  the  title  of  Lord  Holyroodhouse, 
the  lands  of  that  abbacy,  with  some  others,  being  erected  into  a 
temporal  lordship  in  his  favour.  The  title,  however,  sunk  in 
the  second  generation.  The  circumstance  which  now  gives 
most  interest  to  the  family,  is  one  which  they  themselves  would 
probably  have  regarded  as  its  greatest  disgrace.  Among  the  old 
Scottish  songs,  is  one  which  breaks  upon  the  ear  with  the  wail 
of  wronged  womanhood,  mingled  with  the  breathings  of  its 
indestructible  affections : 

'  Baloo,  my  boy,  lie  still  and  sleep, 
It  grieves  me  sair  to  see  thee  weep. 


112  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

If  thou  'It  be  silent,  I  '11  be  glad  ; 

Thy  mourning  makes  my  heart  full  sad.  .  .  « 

Baloo,  my  boy,  weep  not  for  me. 

Whose  greatest  grief's  for  wranging  thee, 

Nor  pity  her  deserved  smart, 

Who  can  blame  none  but  her  fond  heart. 

Baloo,  my  boy,  thy  father 's  fled, 
When  he  the  thriftless  son  hath  played ; 
Of  vows  and  oaths  forgetful,  he 
Preferred  the  wars  to  thee  and  me  : 
But  now  perhaps  thy  curse  jind  mine 
Makes  him  eat  acorns  with  the  swine. 

Nay,  curse  not  him ;  perhaps  now  he, 

Stung  with  remorse,  is  blessing  thee ; 

Perhaps  at  death,  for  who  can  tell 

But  the  great  Judge  of  heaven  and  hell 

By  some  proud  foe  has  struck  the  blow, 

And  laid  the  dear  deceiver  low,'  &c.  ^ 

Great  doubt  has  long  rested  on  the  history  of  this  piteous  ditty ; 
but  it  is  now  ascertained  to  have  been  a  contemporary  effusion 
on  the  sad  love-tale  of  Anne  Bothwell,  a  sister  of  the  first  Lord 
Holyroodhouse.  The  only  error  in  the  setting  down  of  the 
song,  was  in  calling  it  Lady  Anne  Bothwell's  Lament,  as  the 
heroine  had  no  pretension  to  a  term  implying  noble  rank.  Her 
lover  was  a  youth  of  uncommon  elegance  of  person,  the  Honour- 
able Alexander  Erskine,  brother  of  the  Earl  of  Mar,  of  the  first 
Earl  of  Buchan,  and  of  Lord  Cardross.  A  portrait  of  him, 
which  belonged  to  his  mother  (the  countess  mentioned  a  few 
pages  back),  and  which  is  now  in  possession  of  James  Erskine, 
Esq.  of  Cambo,  Lady  Mar's  descendant,  represents  him  as 
strikingly  handsome,  with  much  vivacity  of  countenance,  dark- 
blue  eyes,  a  peaked  beard,  and  moustaches.  The  lovers  were 
cousins.  The  song  is  an  evidence  of  the  public  interest  excited 
by  the  affair :  a  fragment  of  it  found  its  way  into  an  English 
play  of  the  day.  Broom's  comedy  of  The  Northern  Lass  (1632). 
This  is  somewhat  different  from  any  of  the  stanzas  in  the 
common  versions  of  the  ballad  : 


COMMENDATOR  BOTHWELL'S   HOUSE.  II3 

*  Peace,  wayward  bairn.     Oh  cease  thy  moan  ! 
Thy  far  more  wayward  daddy 's  gone, 
And  never  will  recalled  be, 
By  cries  of  either  thee  or  me  ; 

For  should  we  cry. 

Until  we  die, 
We  could  not  scant  his  cruelty. 

Baloo,  baloo,  &c. 

He  needs  might  in  himself  foresee 
What  thou  successively  mightst  be ; 
And  could  he  then  (though  me  forego) 
His  infant  leave,  ere  he  did  know 

How  like  the  dad 

Would  prove  the  lad. 
In  time  to  make  fond  maidens  glad. 

Baloo,  baloo,'  &c. 

The  fate  of  the  deceiver  proved  a  remarkable  echo  of  some  of 
the  verses  of  the  ballad.  Having  carried  his  military  experience 
and  the  influence  of  his  rank  into  the  party  of  the  Covenanters, 
he  was  stationed  (1640)  with  his  brother-in-law,  the  Earl  of 
Haddington,  at  Dunglass  Castle,  on  the  way  to  Berwick, 
actively  engaged  in  bringing  up  levies  for  the  army,  then  newly 
advanced  across  the  Tweed ;  when,  by  the  revenge  of  an 
offended  page,  who  applied  a  hot  poker  to  the  powder  maga- 
zine, the  place  was  blown  up.  Erskine,  with  his  brother-in-law 
and  many  other  persons,  perished.  A  branch  of  the  Mar  family 
retained,  till  no  remote  time,  the  awe-mingled  feeling  which  had 
been  produced  by  this  event,  which  they  had  been  led  to  regard 
as  a  punishment  inflicted  for  the  wrongs  of  Anne  Bothwell. 

At  the  back  of  the  Commendator's  house  there  is  a  projection, 
on  the  top  of  which  is  a  bartisan  or  flat  roof,  faced  with  three 
lettered  stones.  There  is  a  tradition  that  Oliver  Cromwell  lived 
in  this  house,  and  used  to  come  out  and  sit  here  to  view  his 
navy  on  the  Forth,  of  which,  together  with  the  whole  coast,  it 
commands  a  view.  As  this  commander  is  said  to  have  had  his 
guard-house  in  the  neighbouring  alley  called  Dunbar's  Close, 
there  is  some  reason  to  give  credit  to  the  story,  though  it  is  in 


114  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH, 

no  shape  authenticated  by  historical  record.  The  same  house 
was,  for  certain,  the  residence  of  Sir  WiUiam  Dick,  the  hapless 
son  of  Croesus  spoken  of  in  a  preceding  article. 

These  houses  preserved,  until  their  recent  renovation,  all  the 
characteristics  of  that  ancient  mode  of  architecture  which  has 
procured  for  the  edifices  constructed  upon  it  the  dignified  appel- 
lative of  Mahogany  Lands.  Below  were  the  booths  or  piazzas, 
once  prevalent  throughout  the  whole  town,  in  which  the  mer- 
chants of  the  laigh  shops,  or  cellars,  were  permitted  to  exhibit 
their  goods  to  the  passengers.  The  merchant  himself  took  his 
seat  at  the  head  of  the  stair,  to  attend  to  the  wants  of  passing 
customers.  By  the  ancient  laws  of  the  burgh,  it  was  required 
that  each  should  be  provided  with  'lang  wappinis, '  sick  as  a 
spear  or  a  Jeddart  staff','  with  which  he  was  to  sally  forth  and 
assist  the  magistrates  in  time  of  need;  for  example,  when  a 
tulzie  took  place  between  the  retainers  of  rivaHioblemen  meeting 
in  the  street.  ^'•' 

This  house  could  also  boast  of  that  distinguished  feature  in 
all  ancient  wooden  structures,  a  fore-stair,  an  antiquated  con- 
venience, or  inconvenience,  now  almost  extinct,  consisting  of  a 
flight  of  steps,  ascending  from  the  pavement  to  the  first  floor  of 
the  mansion,  and  protruding  a  considerable  way  into  the  street. 
Nuisances  as  they  still  are,  they  were  once  infinitely  worse. 
What  will  my  readers  think  when  they  are  informed  that  imder 
these  projections  our  ancestors  kept  their  swine ?  Yes;  otitside 
stairs  was  formerly  but  a  term  of  outward  respect  for  what  were 
as  frequently  denominated  swine's  cruives ;  and  the  rude  inhabit- 
ants of  these  narrow  mansions  were  permitted,  through  the  day, 
to  stroll  about  the  '  High  Gait,'  seeking  what  they  might  devour 
among  the  heaps  of  filth  which  then  encumbered  the  street,*  as 

*  Edinburgh  was  not  in  this  respect  worse  than  other  European  cities.  Paris,  at  least, 
was  equally  disgusting.  Rigord,  who  wrote  in  the  twelfth  century,  tells  us  that  the  king, 
standing  one  day  at  the  window  of  his  palace  near  the  Seine,  and  observing  that  the  dirt 
thrown  up  by  the  carriages  produced  a  most  offensive  stench,  resolved  to  remedy  this  intol- 
erable nuisance  by  causing  the  streets  to  be  paved.  For  a  long  time  swine  were  permitted 
to  wallow  in  them  ;  till  the  young  Philip  being  killed  by  a  fall  from  his  horse,  from  a  sow 
running  between  its  legs,  an  order  was  issued  that  no  swine  should  in  future  run  about  the 
Street.    The  monks  of  the  Abbey  of  St  Anthony  remonstrated  fiercely  against  this  order. 


COMMENDATOR   BOTHWELL's    HOUSE.  '  II5 

barn-door  fowls  are  at  the  present  day  suffered  to  go  abroad 
in  country  towns;  and,  like  them  (or  like  the  town-geese  of 
Musselburgh,  which  to  this  day  are  privileged  to  feed  upon 
the  race-ground),  the  sullen  porkers  were  regularly  called  home 
in  the  evening  by  their  respective  proprietors. 

These  circumstances  will  be  held  as  sufficient  evidence,  not- 
withstanding all  the  enactments  for  the  '  policy  of  bigginis '  and 
'  decoring  the  tounes,'  that  the  stranger's  constant  reproach  of 
the  Scots  for  want  of  cleanliness  was  not  unmerited.  Yet,  to 
shew  that  our  countrymen  did  not  lack  a  taste  for  decent 
appearances,  let  it  be  recollected  that  on  every  occasion  of  a 
public  procession,  entry  of  a  sovereign,  or  other  ceremonial, 
these  fore-stairs  were  hung  with  carpets,  tapestry,  or  arras,  and 
were  the  principal  places  for  the  display  of  rank  and  fashion ; 
while  the  windows,  like  the  galleries  of  a  theatre  compared  with 
the  boxes,  were  chiefly  occupied  by  spectators  of  a  lower  degree.* 
The  strictest  proclamations  were  always  issued,  before  any  such 
occasion,  ordaining  the  'middinis'  and  the  'swine'  to  be  removed, 
and  the  stairs  to  be  decorated  in  the  manner  mentioned. 

Beneath  the  stair  of  the  house  now  under  review,  there  abode 
in  later  times  an  old  man  named  Bryce,  in  whose  life  and 
circumstances  there  was  something  characteristic  of  a  pent-up 
city  like  Edinburgh,  where  every  foot  of  space  was  valuable. 
A  stock  of  small  hardwares  and  trinkets  was  piled  up  around 
him,  leaving  scarcely  sufficient  room  for  the  accommodation  of 

alleging  that  the  prevention  of  the  saint's  swine  from  enjoying  the  liberty  of  going  where 
they  pleased,  was  a  want  of  respect  to  their  patron.  It  was  therefore  found  necessary  to 
grant  them  the  privilege  of  wallowing  in  the  dirt  without  molestation,  requiring  the  monks 
only  to  turn  them  out  with  bells  about  their  necks. 

*  '  To  recreat  hir  hie  renoun, 

Of  curious  things  thair  wes  all  sort, 

The  stairs  and  houses  of  the  toun  ' 

With  tapestries  were  spread  athort : 

Quhair  histories  men  micht  behould. 

With  images  and  anticks  auld. 

The  description  of  the  qveen's  maiesties 
maist  honorable  entry  into  the  town  of 
edinbvrgh,  vpon  the  i9.  day  of  maii,  159o. 
By  JOHN  BVREL.' — Watsoti's  Collection  of  Scots 
Poems  (1709). 


Il6  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

his  own  person,  which  completely  filled  the  vacant  space,  as  a 
hermit  crab  fills  its  shell.  There  was  not  room  for  the  admission 
6f  a  customer ;  but  he  had  a  half-door,  over  which  he  sold  any 
article  that  was  demanded ;  and  there  he  sat  from  morning  till 
night,  with  his  face  turned  to  this  door,  looking  up  the  eternal 
Lawnmarket.  The  place  was  so  confined  that  he  could  not 
stand  upright  in  it;  nor  could  he  stretch  out  his  legs.  Even 
while  he  sat,  there  was  an  uneasy  obliquity  of  the  stair,  which 
compelled  him  to  shrink  a  httle  aside;  and  by  accustoming 
himself  to  this  posture  for  a  long  series  of  years,  he  had  insensibly 
acquired  a  twist  in  his  shoulders,  nearly 'approaching  to  a  hump- 
back, and  his  head  swung  a  little  to  one  side.  This  was  Tair 
boutiquier  in  a  most  distressing  sense. 

In  the  description  of  this  old  tenement  given  in  the  title-deeds, 
it  is  called  '  All  and  haill  that  Lodging  or  Timber  Land  lying  in 
the  burgh  of  Edinburgh,  on  the  north  side  of  the  High  Street 
thereof,  forgainst  the  place  of  the  Tolbooth,  commonly  called 
the  Poor  Folks'  Purses.'  The  latter  place  was  a  part  of  the 
northern  wall  of  the  prison,  deriving  its  name  from  a  curious 
circumstance.  It  was  formerly  the  custom  for  the  privileged 
beggars,  called  Blue-gowns,  to  assemble  in  the  palace  yard, 
where  a  small  donation  from  the  king,  consisting  of  as  many 
pennies  as  he  was  years  old,  was  conferred  on  each  of  them ; 
after  which  they  moved  in  procession  up  the  High  Street,  till 
they  came  to  this  spot,  where  the  magistrates  gave  each  a 
leathern  ;purse  and  a  small  sum  of  money ;  the  ceremony  con- 
cluding by  their  proceeding  to  the  High  Church,  to  hear  a  sermon 
from  one  of  the  king's  chaplains. 

THE   KRAMES. 

The  central  row  of  buildings — the  Luckenbooths  Proper — ^was 
not  wholly  taken  away  till  1817.  The  narrow  passage  left 
between  it  and  the  church  will  ever  be  memorable  to  all  who 
knew  Edinburgh  in  those  days,  on  account  of  the  strange  scene 
of  traffic  which  it  presented — each  recess,  angle,  and  coigne  of 
vantage  in  the  wall  of  the  church  being  occupied  by  little  shops, 


Creech's  shop.  117 

of  the  nature  of  Bryce's,  devoted  to  the  sale  of  gloves,  toys, 
lollipops,  &c.  These  were  the  Krames,  so  famous  at  Edinburgh 
firesides.  Singular  places  of  business  they  assuredly  were ;  often 
not  presenting  more  space  than  a  good  church-pew,  yet  support- 
ing by  their  commerce  respectable  citizenly  families,  from  which 
would  occasionally  come  men  of  some  consequence  in  society. 
At  the  same  spot  the  constable  (Earl  of  Enrol)  was  wont  to  sit 
upon  a  chair  at  the  ridings  of  the  parliament,  when  ceremonially 
receiving  the  members  as  they  alighted. 

I  am  told  that  one  such  place,  not  more  than  seven  feet  by 
three,  had  been  occupied  by  a  glover  named  Kennedy,  who  with 
his  gentle  dame  stood  there  retailing  their  wares  for  a  time 
sufficient  to  witness  the  rise  and  fall  of  d)Tiasties,  never  enjoying 
all  that  time  the  comfort  of  a  fire,  even  in  the  coldest  weather ! 
This  was  a  specimen  of  the  life  led  by  these  patient  creatures ; 
many  of  whom,  upon  the  demolition  of  their  lath  and  plaster 
tenements,  retired  from  business  with  little  competencies.  Their 
rents  were  from  ;^3  to  ;^6  per  annum  j  and  it  appears  that, 
huddled  as  the  town  then  was  around  them,  they  had  no  incon- 
siderable custom.  At  the  end  of  the  row,  under  the  angle  of  the 
church,  was  a  brief  stair,  called  The  Lady's  Steps,  thought  to  be 
a  corruption  of  Our  Lady's  Steps,  with  reference  to  a  statue  of 
the  Virgin,  the  niche  for  which  was  seen  in  the  east  wall  of 
the  church  till  the  renovation  of  the  building  in  1830.  Sir 
George  Mackenzie,  however,  in  his  Observations  on  the  Statutes, 
states  that  the  Lady's  Steps  were  so  called  from  the  infamous. 
Lady  March  (wife  of  the  Earl  of  Arran,  James  VI. 's  profligate 
chancellor),  from  whom  also  the  nine  o'clock  evening-bell, 
being  ordered  by  her  to  an  hour  later,  came  to  be  called  The 
Lady's  Bell.  When  men  made  bargains  at  the  Cross,  it  was 
customary  for  them  to  go  up  to  the  Lady's  Steps,  and  there 
consummate  the  negotiation  by  wetting  thumbs,  or  paying  arles. 

Creech's  shop. 

The  building  at  the  east  end  of  the  Luckenbooths  proper  had 
a  front  facing  down  the  High  Street,  and  commanding  not  only 


Il8  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

a  view  of  the  busy  scene  there  presented,  but  a  prospect  of 
Aberlady  Bay,  Gosford  House,  and  other  objects  in  Haddington- 
shire. The  shop  in  this  east  front  was  that  of  Mr  Creech,  a 
bookseller  of  facete  memory,  who  had  published  many  books  by 
the  principal  literary  men  of  his  day,  to  all  of  whom  he  was 
known  as  a  friend  and  equal.  From  this  place  had  issued  works 
by  Kames,  Smith,  Hume,  Mackenzie,  and  finally  the  poems  of 
Bums.  It  might  have  been  called  the  Lounger's  Observatory, 
for  seldom  was  the  doorway  free  of  some  group  of  idlers,  engaged 
in  surveying  and  commenting  on  the  crowd  in  front;  Creech 
himself,  with  his  black  silk  breeches  and  powdered  head,  being 
ever  a  conspicuous  member  of  the  corps.  The  flat  above  had 
been  the  shop  of  Allan  Ramsay,  and  the  place  where,  in  1725, 
he  set  up  the  first  example  of  a  circulating  library  known  in 
Scotland. 


SOME  MEMORANDA  OF  THE  OLD  KIRK  OF 
ST  GILES. 

The  central  portion  or  transept  of  St  Giles's  Church,  opening 
from  the  south,  formed  a  distinct  place  of  worship,  under  the 
name  of  the  Old  Church,  and  this  seems  to  have  been  the  first 
arranged  for  Protestant  worship  after  the  Reformation.  It  was 
the  scene  of  the  prelections  of  John  Knox  (who,  it  will  be 
remembered,  was  the  first  minister  of  the  city  under  the  reformed 
religion),  until  a  month  before  his  death,  when  it  appears  that  - 
another  portion  of  the  building — styled  the  Tolbooth  Kirk — was 
fitted  up  for  his  use. 

It  also  happened  to  be  in  the  Old  Kirk  that  the  celebrated 
riot  of  the  23d  of  July  1637  took  place,  when,  on  the  opening 
of  the  new  Episcopal  service-book,  Jenny  Geddes,  of  worthy 
memory,  threw  her  cutty-stool  at  the  dean  Avho  read  it — the  first 


SOME   MEMORANDA   OF   THE    OLD    KIRK   OF    ST   GILES.       II9 

weapon,  and  a  formidable  one  it  was,  employed  in  the  great 
civil  war,* 

Jenny  Geddes  was  an  herbwoman — Scottice,  a  greenwife — at 
the  Tron  Church,  where,  in  former,  as  well  as  in  recent  times, 
that  class  of  merchants  kept  their  stalls.  It  seems  that,  in  the 
midst  of  the  hubbub,  Jenny,  hearing  the  bishop  call  upon  the 
dean  to  read  the  collect  of  the  day,  cried  out,  with  unintentional 
wit:  'Deil  colic  the  wame  o'  ye!'t  and  threw  at  the  dean's 
head  the  small  stool  on  which  she  sat;  'a  ticket  of  remembrance,' 
as  a  Presbyterian  annalist  merrily  terms  it,  so  well  aimed,  that 
the  clergyman  only  escaped  it  by  jouking;  J  that  "is,  by  suddenly 
bending  his  person. 

Jenny,  like  the  originators  of  many  other  insurrections,  appears 
to  have  afterwards  repented  of  her  exertions  on  this  occasion. 
We  learn  from  the  simple  diarist,  Andrew  Nichol,  that  when 
Charles  II.  was  known,  in  June  1650,  to  have  arrived  in  the 
north  of  Scotland,  amidst  other  rejoicings,  '  the  pure  \^.d.  poor] 
kaill-Avyves  at  the  Trone  [Jenny  Geddes,  no  doubt,  among  the 
number]  war  sae  overjoyed,  that  they  sacrificed  their  standis  and 
creellis,  yea,  the  verie  stoollis  they  sat  on,  in  ane  fyre.'  What 
will  give,  however,  a  still  more  unequivocal  proof  of  the  repent- 
ance of  honest  Jenny  (after  whom,  by  the  way.  Bums  named  a 
favourite  mare),  is  the  conduct  expressly  attributed  to  herself  on 
the  occasion  of  the  king's  coronation  in  1661  by  the  Mercuriiis 
Caledonius : 

'  But  among  all  our  bontados  and  caprices,'  says  that  curious 
register  of  events, §  'that  of  the  immortal  Jenet  Geddis,  Princesse 

*  We  learn  from  Crawford's  History  oftJie  University  (MS.  Adv.  Lib.),  that  the  service 
was  read  that  day  in  the  Old  Kirk,  on  account  of  the  more  dignified  place  of  worship  towards 
the  east  being  then  under  the  process  of  alteration,  for  the  erection  of  the  altar,  '  and  other 
pendicles  of  that  idolatrous  worship.' 

+  Notes  7ipon  the  Phoenix  edition  of  the  Pastoral  Letter,  by  S.  Johnson,  1694. 

J  Wodrow,  in  his  Diary,  makes  a  statement  apparently  at  issue  with  that  in  the  text, 
both  in  respect  of  locality  and  person  : 

'  It  is  the  constantly  believed  tradition  that  it  was  Mrs  Mean,  wife  to  John  Mean, 
merchant  in  Edinburgh,  who  threw  the  first  stool  when  the  service-book  was  read  in  the 
New  Kirk,  Edinburgh,  1637,  and  that  many  of  the  lasses  that  carried  on  the  fray  were 
preachers  in  disguise,  for  they  threw  stools  to  a  great  length.' 

{  A  newspaper  commenced  after  the  Restoration,  and  continued  through  eleven  numbers. 


I20  TRADITIONS  OF   EDINBURGH. 

of  the  Trone  adventurers,  was  most  pleasant ;  for  she  was  not 
only  content  to  assemble  all  her  Creels,  Basquets,  Creepiest 
Furmes,  and  other  ingredients  that  composed  the  Shope  of  her 
Sallets,  Radishes,  Turnips,  Carrots,  Spinage,  Cabbage,  with  all 
other  sorts  of  Pot  Merchandise  that  belongs  to  the  garden,  but 
even  her  Leather  Chair  of  State,  where  she  used  to  dispense 
Justice  to  the  rest  of  her  Langkale  Vassals,  were  all  very  orderly 
burned ;  she  herself  countenancing  the  action  with  a  high-flown 
flourish  and  vermilion  majesty.' 

The  Scottish  Society  of  Antiquaries  nevertheless  exhibit  in 
their  Museum  a  clasp-stool,  for  which  there  is  good  evidence 
that  it  was  the  actual  stool  thrown  by  Mrs  Geddes  at  the  dean. 

In  the  southern  aisle  of  this  church,  the  Regent  Murray, 
three  weeks  after  his  assassination  at  Linlithgow,  February 
14,  1569-70,  was  interred:  'his  head  placed  south,  contrair 
the  ordour  usit;  the  sepulchre  laid  with  hewin  wark  maist 
curiously,  and  on  the  head  ane  plate  of  brass.'  John  Knox 
preached  a  funeral-sermon  over  the  remains  of  his  friend,  and 
drew  tears  from  the  eyes  of  all  present.  In  the  Tolbooth 
Church,  immediately  adjoining  to  the  west,  sat  the  convention 
which  chose  the  Earl  of  Lennox  as  his  successor  in  the 
regency.  Murray's  monument  was  not  inelegant  for  the  time ; 
and  its  inscription,  written  by  Buchanan,  is  remarkable  for 
emphatic  brevity. 

This  part  of  the  church  appears  to  have  formerly  been  an 
open  lounge.  French  Paris,  Queen  Mary's  servant,  in  his  con- 
fession respecting  the  murder  of  Damley,  mentions  that,  during 
the  communings  which  took  place  before  that  deed  was  deter- 
mined on,  he  one  day  *  took  his  mantle  and  sword,  and  went  to 
walk  {promener)  in  the  High  Church.'  Probably,  in  consequence 
of  the  veneration  entertained  for  the  memory  of  *  the  Good 
Regent,'  pr  else,  perhaps,  from  some  simple  motive  of  con- 
veniency,  the  Earl  of  Miuray's  tomb  was  a  place  frequently 
assigned  in  bills  for  the  payment  of  the  money.  It  also  appears 
to  have  been  the  subject  of  a  similar  jest  to  that  respecting  the 

»  Small  stools. 


ANCIENT   CHURCHYARD.  121 

tomb  of  Duke  Humphrey.  Robert  Sempill,  in  his  Banishment 
of  Poverty,  a  poem  referring  to  the  year  1680  or  1681,  thus 
expresses  himself: 

'  Then  I  knew  no  way  how  to  fen' ; 

My  guts  rumbled  like  a  hurle-barrow  ; 
I  dined  with  saints  and  noblemen, 

Even  sweet  Saint  Giles  and  Earl  of  Murray.' 

In  the  immediate  neighbourhood  of  the  Earl  of  Murray's 
tomb,  to  the  east,  is  the  sepulchre  of  the  Marquis  of  Montrose, 
executed  in  1650,  and  here  interred  most  sumptuously,  June 
1 66 1,  after  the  various  parts  of  his  body  had  been  dispersed  for 
eleven  years  in  different  directions,  according  to  his  sentence. 


THE    PARLIAMENT    CLOSE. 

Ancient  Churchyard — Booths  attached  to  the  High  Church — Goldsmiths — 
George  Heriot — The  Deid-Chack. 

Previous  to  the  seventeenth  century,  the  ground  now  occupied 
by  the  Parliament  House,  and  the  buildings  adjacent  to  the 
south  and  west,  was  the  churchyard  of  St  Giles's,  from  the  south 
side  of  which  edifice  it  extended  down  a  steep  declivity  to  the 
Cowgate.  This  might  formerly  be  considered  the  metropolitan 
cemetery  of  Scotland;  as,  together  with  the  internal  space  of 
the  church,  it  contained  the  ashes  of  many  noble  and  remark- 
able personages,  John  Knox  amongst  the  number.  After  the 
Reformation,  when  Queen  Mary  conferred  the  gardens  of  the 
Greyfriars  upon  the  town,  the  churchyard  of  St  Giles's  ceased  to 
be  much  used  as  a  burjdng-ground ;  and  that  extensive  and 
more  appropriate  place  of  sepulture  succeeded  to  this  in  being 
made  the  Westminster  Abbey  of  Scotland. 

The  west  side  of  the  cemetery  of  St  Giles's  was  bounded  by 
the  house  of  the  provost  of  the  church,  who,  in  1469,  granted 
part  of  the  same  to  the  citizens,  for  the  augmentation  of  the 


122  TRADITIONS    OF   EDINBURGH. 

burying-ground.  From  the  charter  accompanying  the  grant,  it 
appears  that  the  provost's  house  then  also  contained  the  pubUc 
school  of  Edinburgh, 

In  the  lower  part  of  the  churchyard  there  was  a  small  place 
of  worship  denominated  the  Chapel  of  Holyrood.  Walter 
Chapman,  the  first  printer  in  Edinburgh,  in  1528,  endowed  an 
altar  in  this  chapel  with  his  tenement  in  the  Cowgate ;  and,  by 
the  tenor  of  the  charter,  I  am  enabled  to  point  out  very  nearly 
the  residence  of  this  interesting  person,  who,  besides  being  a 
printer,  was  a  respectable  merchant  in  Edinburgh,  and,  it  would 
appear,  a  very  pious  man.  The  tenement  is  thus  described : 
*  All  and  haill  this  tenement  of  land,  back  and  foir,  with  houses, 
biggings,  yards,  and  well*  thereof,  lying  in  the  Cowgate  of 
Edinburgh,  on  the  south  side  thereof,  near  the  said  chapel, 
betwixt  the  lands  of  James  Lamb  on  the  east,  and  the  lands  of 
John  Aber  on  the  west,  the  arable  lands  called  Wairam's  Croft 
on  the  south,  and  the  said  street  on  the  north  part.' 

BOOTHS. 

The  precincts  of  St  Giles's  being  now  secularised,  the  church 
itself  was,  in  1628,  degraded  by  numerous  wooden  booths  being 
stuck  up  around  it.  Yet,  to  shew  that  some  reverence  was  still 
paid  to  the  sanctity  of  the  place,  the  Town-council  decreed  that 
no  tradesmen  should  be  admitted  to  these  shops  except  book- 
binders, mortmakers  (watchmakers),  jewellers,  and  goldsmiths. 
Bookbinders  must  here  be  meant  to  signify  booksellers,  the  latter 
term  not  being  then  known  in  Scotland.  Of  mortmakers  there 
could  not  be  many,  for  watches  were  imported  from  Germany 
till  about  the  conclusion  of  the  seventeenth  century.  The  gold- 
smiths were  a  much  more  numerous  tribe  than  either  of  their 
companions  \  for  at  that  time  there  prevailed  in  Scotland, 
amongst  the  aristocracy,  a  sort  of  rude  magnificence  and  taste 
for  show  extremely  favourable  to  these  tradesmen. 

In  1632,  the  present  great  hall  of  the  Parliament  House  was 

*  Previous  to  i6Si,  the  inhabitants  of  Edinburgh  were  supplied  with  water  from  pump- 
wells  in  the  south  side  of  the  Cowgate. 


BOOTHS.  123 

founded  upon  the  site  of  the  houses  formerly  occupied  by  the 
ministers  of  St  Giles's.  It  was  finished  in  1639,  at  an  expense  of 
;^i  1,630  sterling,  and  devoted  to  the  use  of  parhament. 

It  does  not  appear  to  have  been  till  after  the  Restoration 
that  the  Parliament  Close  was  formed,  by  the  erection  of  a 
line  of  private  buildings,  forming  a  square  with  the  church. 
These  houses,  standing  on  a  declivity,  were  higher  on  one  side 
than  the  other  :  one  is  said  to  have  been  fifteen  stories  altogether 
in  height.  All,  however,  were  burned  down  in  a  great  fire  which 
happened  in  1700,  after  which  buildings  of  twelve  stories  in 
height  were  substituted. 

Among  the  noble  inhabitants  of  the  Parliament  Close  at  an 
early  period,  the  noble  family  of  Wemyss  were  not  the  least 
considerable.  At  the  time  of  Porteous's  affair,  when  Francis,  the 
fifth  earl,  was  a  boy,  his  sisters  persuaded  him  to  act  the  part  of 
Captain  Porteous  in  a  sort  of  drama  which  they  got  up  in 
imitation  of  that  strange  scene.  The  foolish  romps  actually 
went  the  length  of  tucking  up  their  brother,  the  heir  of  the 
family,  by  the  neck,  over  a  door;  and  their  sports  had  well- 
nigh  ended  in  a  real  tragedy,  for  the  helpless  representative  of 
Porteous  was  black  in  the  face  before  they  saw  the  necessity 
of  cutting  him  down. 

The  small  booths  around  St  Giles's  continued,  till  181 7,  to 
deform  the  outward  appearance  of  the  church.  Long  before 
their  destruction,  the  booksellers  at  least  had  found  the  space  of 
six  or  seven  feet  too  small  for  the  accommodation  of  their  fast- 
increasing  wares,  and  removed  to  larger  shops  in  the  elegant 
tenements  of  the  square.  One  of  the  largest  of  the  booths, 
adjacent  to  the  south  side  of  the  New  or  High  Church,  and 
having  a  second  story,  was  occupied,  during  a  great  part  of  the 
last  century,  by  Messrs  Kerr  and  Dempster,  goldsmiths.  The 
first  of  these  gentlemen  had  been  member  of  parliament  for  the 
city,  and  was  the  last  citizen  who  ever  held  that  office.  Such 
was  the  humility  of  people's  wishes  in  those  days  respecting 
their  houses,  that  this  respectable  person  actually  lived,  and  had 
a  great  number  of  children,  in  the  small  space  of  the  flat  over 

I 


124  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

the  shop,  and  the  cellar  under  it,  which  was  lighted  by  a  grating 
in  the  pavement  of  the  square.  The  subterraneous  part  of  his 
house  was  chiefly  devoted  to  the  purposes  of  a  nursery,  and 
proved  so  insalubrious,  that  all  his  children  died  successively  at 
a  particular  age,  with  the  exception  of  his  son  Robert,  who, 
being  bom  much  more  weakly  than  the  rest,  had  the  good-luck 
to  be  sent  to  the  country  to  be  nursed,  and  afterwards  grew  up 
to  be  the  author  of  a  work  entitled  The  Life  of  Robert  Bruce,  and 
the  editor  of  a  large  collection  of  voyages  and  travels. 

GOLDSMITHS. 

The  goldsmiths  of  those  days  were  considered  a  superior  class 
of  tradesmen;  they  appeared  in  public  with  scarlet  cloak,  cocked 
hat,  and  cane,  as  men  of  some  consideration.  Yet,  in  their 
shops,  every  one  of  them  would  have  been  found  working  with 
his  own  hands  at  some  light  labour,  in  a  little  recess  near  the 
window,  generally  in  a  very  plain  dress,  but  ready  to  come  forth 
at  a  moment's  notice  to  serve  a  customer.  Perhaps,  down  to 
1780,  there  was  not  a  goldsmith  in  Edinburgh  who  did  not 
condescend  to  manual  labour. 

As  the  whole  trade  was  collected  in  the  Parliament  Close, 
this  was  of  course  the  place  to  which  country  couples  resorted, 
during  the  last  century,  in  order  to  make  the  purchase  of  silver 
tea-spoons,  which  always  preceded  their  nuptials.  It  was  then 
as  customary  a  thing  in  the  country  for  the  intending  bridegroom 
to  take  a  journey,  a  few  weeks  before  his  marriage,  to  the 
Parliament  Close,  in  order  to  buy  the  silver  spoons,  2J~,  it  was  for 
the  bride  to  have  all  her  clothes  and  stock  of  bed-furniture 
inspected  by  a  committee  of  matrons  upon  the  wedding  eve. 
And  this  important  transaction  occasioned  two  journeys  :  one, 
in  order  to  select  the  spoons,  and  prescribe  the  initials  which 
were  to  be  marked  upon  them ;  the  other,  to  receive  and  pay 
for  them.  It  must  be  understood  that  the  goldsmiths  of  Edin- 
burgh then  kept  scarcely  any  goods  on  hand  in  their  shops,  and 
that  the  smallest  article  had  to  be  bespoken  from  them  some 
time  before  it  was  wanted.     A  goldsmith,  who  entered  as  an 


GEORGE   HERIOT.  1 25 

apprentice  about  the  beginning  of  the  reign  of  George  III., 
informed  me  that  they  were  beginning  only  at  that  time  to  keep 
a  few  trifling  articles  on  hand.  Previously,  another  old  custom 
had  been  abolished.  It  had  been  usual,  upon  both  the  occa- 
sions above  mentioned,  for  the  goldsmith  to  adjourn  with  his 
customer  to  John's  Cofifee-house,  or  to  the  B'aij  en-hole,  and  to 
receive  the  order  or  the  payment,  in  a  comfortable  manner,  over 
a  dram  and  a  caup  of  small  ale;  which  were,  upon  the  first 
occasion,  paid  for  by  the  customer,  and,  upon  the  second,  by 
the  trader;  and  the  goldsmith  then  was  perhaps  let  into  the 
whole  secret  counsels  of  the  rustic,  including  a  history  of  his 
courtship — in  return  for  which  he  would  take  pains  to  amuse  his 
customer  with  a  sketch  of  the  city  news.  In  time,  as  the  views 
and  capitals  of  the  Parliament  Close  goldsmiths  became  extended, 
all  these  pleasant  customs  were  abandoned.* 

GEORGE   HERIOT. 

The  shop  and  workshop  of  George  Heriot  existed  in  this 
neighbourhood  till  1809,  when  the  extension  of  the  Advocates' 
Library  occasioned  the  destruction  of  some  interesting  old  doses 
to  the  west  of  St  Giles's  Klirk,  and  altered  all  the  features  of  this 
part  of  the  town.  There  was  a  line  of  three  small  shops,  with 
wooden  superstmctures  above  them,  extending  between  the  door 
of  the  Old  Tolbooth  and  that  of  the  Laigh  Council-house,  which 
occupied  the  site  of  the  present  lobby  of  the  Signet  Library.  A 
narrow  passage  led  between  these  shops  and  the  west  end  of  St 
Giles's ;  and  George  Heriot's  shop,  being  in  the  centre  of  the 
three,  was  situated  exactly  opposite  to  the  south  window  of  the 
Little  Kirk.  The  back  windows  looked  into  an  alley  behind, 
called  Beith's  or  Bess  Wynd.  In  confirmation  of  this  tradition, 
George  Heriot's  name  was  discovered  upon  the  architrave  of 

*  In  the  early  times  above  referred  to,  £,iao  was  accounted  a  sufficient  capital  for  a  young 
goldsmith — being  just  so  much  as  purchased  his  furnace,  tools,  &c.,  served  to  fit  up  his 
shop,  and  enabled  him  to  enter  the  Incorporation,  which  alone  required  £i,o  out  of  the  £xoq. 
The  stock  with  which  George  Heriot  commenced  business  at  a  much  earlier  period  (1580) — 
said  to  have  been  about  ;^2oo — must  therefore  be  considered  a  proof  of  the  wealth  of  that 
celebrated  person's  family. 


126  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

the  door,  being  carved  in  the  stone,  and  apparently  having 
served  as  his  sign.  Besides  this  curious  memorial,  the  booth 
was  also  found  to  contain  his  forge  and  bellows,  with  a  hollow 
stone,  fitted  with  a  stone  cover  or  hd,  which  had  been  used  as  a 
receptacle  for,  and  a  means  of  extinguishing,  the  living  embers 
of  the  furnace,  upon  closing  the  shop  at  night.  All  these 
curiosities  were  bought  by  the  late  Mr  E.  Robertson  of  the 
Commercial  Bank,  who  had  been  educated  in  Heriot's  Hospital, 
and  by  him  presented  to  the  governors,  who  ordered  them  to  be 
carefully  deposited  and  preserved  in  the  house,  where  they  now 
remain.  George  Heriot's  shop  was  only  about  seven  feet  square ! 
Yet  his  master.  King  James,  is  said  to  have  sometimes  visited 
him,  and  been  treated  by  him  here.  There  is  a  story,  that  one 
day  when  the  goldsmith  visited  his  majesty  at  Holyrood,  he 
found  him  sitting  beside  a  fire,  which,  being  composed  of 
perfumed  wood,  cast  an  agreeable  smell  through  the  room. 
Upon  George  Heriot  remarking  its  pleasantness,  the  king  told 
him  that  it  was  quite  as  costly  as  it  was  fine.  Heriot  said  that 
if  his  majesty  would  come  and  pay  him  a  visit  at  his  shop,  he 
would  shew  him  a  still  more  costly  fire. 

'  Indeed  !'  said  the  king;  '  and  I  will.'  He  accordingly  paid 
the  goldsmith  a  visit,  but  was  surprised  to  find  only  an  ordinary 
fire.     '  Is  this,  then,  your  fine  fire  ?'  said  he. 

'Wait  a  little,'  said  George,  'till  I  get  my  fuel.'  So  saying,  he 
took  from  his  bureau  a  bond  for  two  thousand  pounds  which 
he  had  lent  to  the  king,  and  laying  it  in  the  fire,  added :  '  Now, 
whether  is  your  majesty's  fire  or  mine  most  expensive  ? ' 

'  Yours  most  certainly.  Master  Heriot,'  said  the  king. 

Adjacent  to  George  Heriot's  shop,  and  contiguous  to  the 
Laigh  Council-house,  there  was  a  tavern,  in  which  a  great  deal 
of  small  legal  business  used  to  be  transacted  in  bygone  times. 
Peter  Williamson,  an  original  and  singular  person,  who  had  long 
been  in  North  America,  and  therefore  designated  himself '  from 
the  other  world,'  kept  this  house  for  many  years.*     It  served 

*  Peter  had,  in  early  life,  been  kidnapped  and  sold  to  the  plantations.     After  spending 
some  time  among  the  North  American  Indians,  he  came  back  to  Scotland,  and  began 


THE   DEID-CHACK.  12  7 

also  as  a  sort  of  vestry  to  the  Tolbooth  Church ;  and  was  the 
place  where  the  magistrates  took  what  was  called  the  Deid-chack 
— that  is,  a  refreshment  or  dinner,  of  which  those  dignitaries 
always  partook  after  having  attended  an  execution.  The  Deid- 
chack  is  now  abjured,  like  many  other  of  those  fashions  which 
formerly  rendered  the  office  of  a  magistrate  so  much  more  com- 
fortable than  it  now  is.* 

The  various  kirks  which  compose  St  Giles's  had  all  different 
characters  in  former  times.  The  High  Kirk  had  a  sort  of 
dignified  aristocratic  character,  approaching  somewhat  to  prelacy, 
and  was  frequented  only  by  sound  church-and-state  men,  who 
did  not  care  so  much  for  the  sermon,  as  for  the  gratification  of 
sitting  in  the  same  place  with  his  majesty's  Lords  of  Council 
and  Session,  and  the  magistrates  of  Edinburgh,  and  who  desired 
to  be  thought  men  of  sufficient  liberality  and  taste  to  appreciate 
the  prelections  of  Blair.  The  Old  Kirk,  in  the  centre  of  the 
whole,  was  frequented  by  people  who  ^vished  to  have  a  sermon 
of  good  divinity,  about  three-quarters  of  an  hour  long,  and  who 
did  not  care  for  the  darkness  and  dreariness  of  their  temple. 
The  Tolbooth  Kirk  was  the  peculiar  resort  of  a  set  of  rigid 
Calvinists  from  the  Lawnmarket  and  the  head  of  the  Bow, 
termed  the  Towbuith- Whigs,  who  loved  nothing  but  extempore 
evangelical  sermons,  and  would  have  considered  it  sufficient  to 
bring  the  house  down  about  their  ears  if  the  precentor  had 
ceased,  for  one  verse,  the  old  hillside  fashion  of  reciting  the 
lines  of  the  psalm  before  singing  them.  Dr  Webster,  of  con- 
vivial memory,  was  long  one  of  the  clergymen  of  this  church, 

business  in  Edinburgh  as  a  vintner.     Robert  Fergusson,  in  his  poem  entitled  The  Rising  of 
tlie  Session,  thus  alludes  to  a  little  tavern  he  kept  within  the  Parliament  House  : 
'This  vacance  is  a  heavy  doom 
On  Indian  Peter's  coffee-room. 
For  a'  his  china  pigs  are  toom  ; 

Nor  do  we  see 
In  wine  the  soukar  biskets  soora 
As  light's  a  flee.' 

Peter  afterwards  established  a  penny-post  in  Edinburgh,  which  became  so  profitable  in  his 
hands,  that  the  General  Post-ofEce  gave  him  a  handsome  compensation  for  it.     He  was  alas 
the  first  to  print  a  street  directory  in  Edinburgh.     He  died  January  19,  1799. 
•  Provost  Creech  was  the  first  who  had  the  good  taste  to  abandon  the  practice. 


128  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

and  deservedly  admired  as  a  pulpit  orator;  though  his  social 
habits  often  run  nigh  to  scandalise  his  devout  and  self-denying 
congregation. 

The  inhabitants  and  shopkeepers  of  the  Parliament  Square 
were,  in  former  times,  very  sociable  and  friendly  as  neighbours, 
and  formed  themselves  into  a  sort  of  society,  which  was  long 
known  by  the  name  of  The  Parliament-Close  Council.  Of  this 
association  there  were  from  fifty  to  a  hundred  members,  who 
met  once  or  twice  a  year  at  a  dinner,  when  they  usually  spent 
the  evening,  as  the  newspaper  phrase  goes,  '  in  the  utmost 
harmony.'  The  whim  of  this  club  consisted  in  each  person 
assuming  a  titular  dignity  at  the  dinner,  and  being  so  called  all 
the  year  after  by  his  fellow-members.  One  was  Lord  Provost  of 
Edinburgh — another  was  Dean  of  Guild — some  were  bailies — 
others  deacons — and  a  great  proportion  state-officers.  Sir 
William  Forbes,  who,  with  the  kindness  of  heart  which  charac- 
terised him,  condescended  to  hold  a  place  in  this  assemblage  of 
mummers,  was  for  a  long  time  Member  for  the  City. 

Previous  to  the  institution  of  the  police-court,  a  bailie  of 
Edinburgh  used  to  sit,  every  Monday,  at  that  part  of  the  Outer 
Parliament  House  where  the  statue  of  Lord  Melville  now  stands, 
to  hear  and  decide  upon  small  causes — such  as  prosecutions  for 
scandal  and  defamation,  or  cases  of  quarrels  among  the  vulgar 
and  the  infamous.  This  judicature,  commonly  called  the  Dirt 
Court,  was  chiefly  resorted  to  by  washerwomen  from  Canonmills, 
and  the  drunken  ale-wives  of  the  Ganongate.  A  list  of  Dirt- 
Gourt  processes  used  always  to  be  hung  up  on  a  board  every 
Monday  morning  at  one  of  the  pillars  in  the  piazza  at  the  out- 
side of  the  Parliament  Square ;  and  that  part  of  the  piazza  being 
the  lounge  of  two  or  three  low  pettifoggers,  who  managed  such 
pleas,  was  popularly  called  the  Scoufidrels'  Walk.  Early  on 
Monday,  it  was  usual  to  see  one  or  two  threadbare  personages, 
with  prodigiously  clean  linen,  bustling  about  with  an  air  of 
importance,  and  occasionally  accosted  by  viragoes  with  long, 
eared  caps  flying  behind  their  heads.  These  were  the  agents  of 
the  Dirt  Gourt,  undergoing  conference  with  their  clients. 


MEMORIALS   OF  THE   NOR'   LOCH.  1 29 

There  was  something  lofty  and  august  about  the  Parliament 
Close,  which  we  shall  scarcely  ever  see  re\dved  in  any  modem 
part  of  the  town;  so  dark  and  majestic  were  the  buildings  all 
round,  and  so  finely  did  the  whole  harmonise  with  the  ancient 
cathedral  which  formed  one  of  its  sides !  Even  the  echoes 
of  the  Parliament  Square  had  something  grand  in  them.  Such, 
perhaps,  were  the  feelings  of  William  Julius  Mickle,  when  he 
wrote  a  poem  on  passing  through  the  Parliament  Close  of  Edin- 
burgh at  midnight,*  of  which  the  foUomng  is  one  of  the  best 
passages  : 

*  In  the  pale  air  sublime, 
St  Giles's  column  rears  its  ancient  head. 
Whose  builders  many  a  century  ago 
Were  mouldered  into  dust.     Now,  O  my  soul, 
Be  filled  with  sacred  awe — I  tread 
Above  our  brave  forgotten  ancestors.     Here  lie 
Those  who  in  ancient  days  the  kingdom  ruled, 
The  counsellors  and  favourites  of  kings, 
High  lords  and  courtly  dames,  and  vaHant  chiefs. 
Mingling  their  dust  with  those  of  lowest  rank 
And  basest  deeds,  and  now  unkno^vn  as  they.' 


MEMORIALS   OF  THE   NOR'   LOCH. 

He  who  now  sees  the  wide  hollow  space  between  the  Old  and 
New  Towns,  occupied  by  beautiful  gardens,  having  their  con- 
tinuity only  somewhat  curiously  broken  up  by  a  transverse 
earthen  mound  and  a  line  of  railway,  must  be  at  a  loss  to  realise 
the  idea  of  the  same  space  presenting  in  former  times  a  lake, 
which  was  regarded  as  a  portion  of  the  physical  defences  of  the 
city.  Yet  many,  in  common  with  myself,  must  remember  the 
by  no  means  distant  time  when  the  remains  of  this  sheet  of 
water,  consisting  of  a  few  pools,  served  as  excellent  sliding 
and  skating  ground  in  winter,  while  their  neglected  grass-green 

*  See  Collection  of  Original  Poevis  iy  Scotch  Gentlemen,  vol.  ii.  137  (1762). 


130  TRADITIONS    OF   EDINBURGH. 

precincts  too  frequently  formed  an  arena  whereon  the  high  and 
mighty  quarrels  of  Old  and  New  Town  cowlies  [etymology  of  the 
word  unkno^vn]  were  brought  to  a  lapidarian  arbitration. 

The  lake,  it  after  all  appears,  was  artificial,  being  fed  by 
springs  under  the  Castle  Rock,  and  retained  by  9.  dam  at  the 
foot  of  Halkerston's  Wynd;  which  dam  was  a  passable  way 
from  the  city  to  the  fields  on  the  north.  Bower,  the  continuator 
of  Fordun,  speaks  of  a  tournament  held  on  the  ground,  uhi  mine 
est  lacus,  in  1396,  by  order  of  the  queen  [of  Robert  III.],  at 
which  her  eldest  son,  Prince  David,  then  in  his  twentieth  year, 
presided.  At  the  beginning  of  the  sixteenth  century,  a  ford 
upon  the  North  Loch  is  mentioned.  Archbishop  Beatoun 
escaped  across  that  ford  in  15 17,  when  flying  from  the  unlucky 
street-skirmish  called  Cleame  the  Causeway.  In  those  early 
times,  the  town  corporation  kept  ducks  and  swans  upon  the 
loch  for  ornament's  sake,  and  various  acts  occur  in  their  register 
for  preserving  those  birds.  An  act,  passed  in  council  between 
the  years  1589  and  1594,  ordained  '  a  boll  of  oats  to  be  bought 
for  feeding  the  swans  in  the  North  Loch ;'  and  a  person  was 
unlawed  at  the  same  time  for  shooting  a  swan  in  the  said  loch, 
and  obliged  to  find  another  in  its  place.  The  lake  seems  to 
have  been  a  favourite  scene  for  boating.  Various  houses  in  the 
neighbourhood  had  servitudes  of  the  use  of  a  boat  upon  it ;  and 
these,  in  later  times,  used  to  be  employed  to  no  little  purpose  in 
smuggling  whisky  into  the  town. 

The  North  Loch  was  the  place  in  which  our  pious  ancestors 
used  to  dip  and  drown  offenders  against  morality,  especially  of 
the  female  sex.  The  Reformers,  therefore,  conceived  that  they 
had  not  only  done  a  very  proper,  but  also  a  very  witty  thing, 
when  they  threw  into  this  lake,  in  1558,  the  statue  of  St  Giles, 
which  formerly  adorned  their  High  Church,  and  which  they  had 
contrived  to  abstract. 

It  was  also  the  frequent  scene  of  suicide,  and  on  this  point 
one  or  two  droll  anecdotes  are  related.  A  man  was  deliberately 
proceeding  to  drown  himself  in  the  North  Loch,  when  a  crowd 
of  the  towns-people  rushed  down  to  the  water-side,  venting  cries 


THE    PARLIAMENT  HOUSE.  I3I 

of  horror  and  alarm  at  the  spectacle,  yet  without  actually 
venturing  into  the  water  to  prevent  him  from  accomplishing  the 
rash  act.  Hearing  the  tumult,  the  father  of  the  late  Lord 
Henderland  threw  up  his  window  in  James's  Court,  and  leaning 
out,  cried  down  the  brae  to  the  people :  '  What 's  all  the  noise 
about  ?  Can't  ye  e'en  let  the  honest  man  gang  to  the  de'il  his 
ain  gate?'  ^Vhereupon  the  honest  man  quietly  walked  out  of 
the  loch,  to  the  no  small  amusement  of  his  lately  appalled 
neighbours.  It  is  also  said  that  a  poor  woman,  having  resolved 
to  put  an  end  to  her  existence,  waded  a  considerable  way  into 
the  water,  designing  to  take  the  fatal  plunge  when  she  should 
reach  a  place  where  the  lake  was  sufficiently  deep.  Before  she 
could  satisfy  herself  on  that  point,  her  hoop  caught  the  water, 
and  lifted  her  off  her  feet.  At  the  same  time  the  wind  caught 
her  figure,  and  blew  her,  whether  she  would  or  not,  into  the 
centre  of  the  pool,  as  if  she  had  been  sailing  upon  an  inverted 
tub.  She  now  became  alarmed,  screamed  for  help,  and  waved 
her  arms  distractedly ;  all  of  which  signs  brought  a  crowd  to  the 
shore  she  had  just  left,  who  were  unable,  however,  to  render  her 
any  assistance,  before  she  had  landed  on  the  other  side — fairly 
cured,  it  appeared,  of  all  desire  of  quitting  the  uneasy  coil  of 
mortal  life. 


THE    PARLIAMENT    HOUSE. 

Old  Arrangements  of  the  House — ^Justice  in  Bygone  Times — Court  of 
Session  Garland — Parliament  House  Worthies. 

The  Parliament  House,  a  spacious  hall  with  an  oaken  arched 
roof,  finished  in  1639  for  the  meetings  of  the  Estates  or  native 
parliament,  and  used  for  that  purpose  till  the  Union,  has  since 
then,  as  is  well  kno^vn,  served  exclusively  as  a  material  portion 
of  the  suite  of  buildings  required  for  the  supreme  civil  judicatory 
— the  Court  of  Session.  This  hall,  usually  styled  the  Outer 
House,  is  now  a  nearly  empty  space,  but  it  was  in  a  very  dififerent 


132  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

State  within  the  recollection  of  aged  practitioners.  So  lately  as 
1779,  it  retained  the  divisions,  furnishings,  and  other  features 
which  it  had  borne  in  the  days  when  we  had  a  national  legisla- 
ture— excepting  only  that  the  portraits  of  sovereigns  which  then 
adorned  the  walls  had  been  removed  by  the  Earl  of  Mar,  to 
whom  Queen  Anne  had  given  them  as  a  present  when  the  Union 
was  accomplished. 

The  divisions  and  furniture,  it  may  be  remarked,  were  under- 
stood to  be  precisely  those  which  had  been  used  for  the  Court 
of  Session  from  an  early  time ;  but  it  appears  that  such  changes 
were  made  when  the  parliament  was  to  sit,  as  left  the  room  one 
free  vacant  space.  The  southern  portion,  separated  from  the 
rest  by  a  screen,  accommodated  the  Court  of  Session.  The 
northern  portion,  comprising  a  sub-section  used  for  the  Sheriif- 
court,  was  chiefly  a  kind  of  lobby  of  irregular  form,  surrounded 
by  little  booths,  which  were  occupied  as  taverns,  booksellers' 
shops,  and  toy-shops,  all  of  very  flimsy  materials.  These  k?'at}ies, 
or  boxes,  seem  to  have  been  established  at  an  early  period,  the 
idea  being  no  doubt  taken  from  the  former  condition  of  West- 
minster Hall.  John  Spottiswoode  of  Spottiswoode,  who,  in 
1718,  published  the  Forms  of  Process  before  the  Court  of  Session, 
mentions  that  there  were  '  two  keepers  of  the  session-house,  who 
had  small  salaries  to  do  all  the  menial  offices  in  the  house,  and 
that  no  small  part  of  their  annual  perquisites  came  from  the 
kramers  in  the  outer  hall.' 

JUSTICE   IN   BYGONE   TIMES. 

The  memories  which  have  been  preserved  of  the  administra- 
tion of  justice  by  the  Court  of  Session  in  its  earlier  days,  are  not 
such  as  to  increase  our  love  for  past  times.*  This  court  is 
described  by  Buchanan  as  extremely  arbitrary,  and  by  a  nearly 
contemporary  historian  (Johnston)  as  infamous  for  its  dishonesty. 
An  advocate  or  barrister  is  spoken  of  by  the  latter  writer  as 

*  Several  of  the  illustrations  in  the  present  section  are  immediately  derived  from  a  curious 
volume,  full  of  entertainment  for  a  denizen  of  the  Parliament  House — T/ie  Court  0/ Session 
Garland.    Edinburgh :  Thomas  Stevenson.    1839. 


JUSTICE  IN  BYGONE  TIMES.  133 

taking  money  from  his  clients,  and  dividing  it  among  the  judges 
for  their  votes.  At  this  time  we  find  the  chancellor  (Lord 
Fyvie)  superintending  the  lawsuits  of  a  friend,  and  writing  to 
him  the  way  and  manner  in  which  he  proposed  they  should  be 
conducted.  But  the  strongest  evidence  of  the  corruption  of 
'the  lords'  is  afforded  by  an  act  of  1579,  prohibiting  them  'be 
thame  selfifis  or  be  their  wiffis  or  servandes,  to  tak  in  ony  time 
cuming,  buddis,  bjybes,  gudes,  or  geir,  fra  quhatever  persone  or 
persons  presentlie  havand,  or  that  heirefter  sail  happyne  to  have, 
any  acfionis  or  caussis  pursewit  befoir  thajne,  aither  fra  the  persewer 
or  defender,'  under  pain  of  confiscation.  Had  not  bribery  been 
common  amongst  the  judges,  such  an  act  as  this  could  never 
have  been  passed. 

In  the  curious  history  of  the  family  of  Somerville,  there  is  a 
very  remarkable  anecdote  illustrative  of  the  course  of  justice  at 
that  period.  Lord  Somerville  and  his  kinsman,  Somerville  of 
Cambusnethan,  had  long  carried  on  a  litigation.  The  former 
was  at  length  advised  to  use  certain  means  for  the  advancement 
of  his  cause  with  the  Regent  Morton,  it  being  then  customary 
for  the  sovereign  to  preside  in  the  court.  Accordingly,  having 
one  evening  caused  his  agents  to  prepare  all  the  required  papers, 
he  went  next  morning  to  the  palace,  and  being  admitted  to  the 
regent,  informed  him  of  the  cause,  and  entreated  him  to  order  it 
to  be  called  that  forenoon.  He  then  took  out  his  purse,  as  if 
to  give  a  few  pieces  to  the  pages  or  servants,  and  slipping  it 
down  upon  the  table,  hurriedly  left  the  presence-chamber.  The 
earl  cried  several  times  after  him  :  '  My  lord,  you  have  left  your 
purse ; '  but  he  had  no  wish  to  stop.  At  length,  when  he  was 
at  the  outer  porch,  a  servant  overtook  him  with  a  request  that 
he  would  go  back  to  breakfast  with  the  regent.  He  did  so,  was 
kindly  treated,  and  soon  after  was  taken  by  Morton  in  "his  coach 
to  the  court-room  in  the  city.  *  Cambusnethan,  by  accident,  as 
the  coach  passed,  was  standing  at  Niddry's  Wynd  head,  and 
having  inquired  who  was  in  it  with  the  regent,  he  was  answered  : 
"None  but  Lord  Somerville  and  Lord  Boyd;"  upon  which  he 
struck  his  breast,  and  said:  "This  day  my  cause  is  lost!"  and 


134  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

indeed  it  proved  so.'  By  twelve  o'clock  that  day,  Lord  Somerville 
had  gained  a  cause  which  had  been  hanging  in  suspense  for 
years. 

In  those  days,  both  civil  and  criminal  procedure  was  conducted 
in  much  the  same  spirit  as  a  suit  at  war.  When  a  great  noble 
was  to  be  tried  for  some  monstrous  murder  or  treason,  he 
appeared  at  the  bar  with  as  many  of  his  retainers,  and  as  many 
of  his  friends  and  their  retainers,  as  he  could  muster,  and  justice 
only  had  its  course  if  the  government  chanced  to  be  the  strongest, 
which  often  was  not  the  case.  It  was  considered  dishonourable 
not  to  countenance  a  friend  in  troubles  of  this  kind,  however 
black  might  be  his  moral  guilt.  The  trial  of  Bothwell  for  the 
assassination  of  Damley  is  a  noted  example  of  a  criminal  out- 
braving his  judges  and  jury.  Relationship,  friendly  connection, 
solicitation  of  friends,  and  direct  bribes  were  admitted  and 
recognised  influences  to  which  the  civil  judge  was  expected  to 
give  way.  If  a  difficulty  were  found  in  inducing  a  judge  to 
vote  against  his  conscience,  he  might  at  least  perhaps  be  induced 
by  some  of  those  considerations  to  absent  himself,  so  as  to 
allow  the  case  to  go  in  the  desired  way.  The  story  of  the 
abduction  of  Gibson  of  Durie  by  Christie's  Will,  and  his  immure- 
ment in  a  Border  tower  for  some  weeks,  that  his  voice  might 
be  absent  in  the  decision  of  a  case — as  given  in  the  Border 
Minstrelsy  by  Scott — is  only  incorrect  in  some  particulars.  (As 
the  real  case  is  reported  in  Pitcairn's  Criminal  Trials,  it  appears 
that,  in  September  1601,  Gibson  was  carried  off  from  the 
neighbourhood  of  St  Andrews  by  George  Meldrum,  younger  of 
Dumbreck,  and  hastily  transported  to  the  castle  of  Harbottle  in 
Northumberland,  and  kept  there  for  eight  days.)  But,  after  all, 
Scotland  was  not  singular  among  European  nations  in  these 
respects.  In  Moli^re's  Misanthrope,  produced  in  1666,  we  find 
the  good-natured  Philinte  coolly  remonstrating  with  Alceste  on 
his  unreasonable  resolution  to  let  his  lawsuit  depend  only  on 
right  and  equity. 

'  Qui  voulez-vous  done,  qui  pour  vous  soUicite  ? '  says 
Philinte.  . 'Aucun  juge  par  vous  ne  sera  visite?' 


JUSTICE   IN   BYGONE  TIMES.  1 35 

*  Je  ne  remuerai  point,'  returns  the  misanthrope. 

Fhilifite.  Votre  partie  est  forte,  et  pent  par  sa  cabale  entrainer. 

Akeste.  II  n'importe.  .  .  . 

Philinte.  Quel  homme  !  .  .  .  On  se  riroit  de  vous,  Akeste, 
si  on  vous  entendoit  parler  de  la  fagon.  {People  would  laugh 
at  you,  if  they  heard  you  talk  in  this  maimer!) 

It  is  a  general  tradition  in  Scotland  that  the  EngHsh  judges 
whom  Cromwell  sent  down  to  administer  the  law  in  Scotland, 
for  the  first  time  made  the  people  acquainted  with  impartiality 
of  judgment.  It  is  added,  that  after  the  Restoration,  when 
native  lords  were  again  put  upon  the  bench,  some  one,  in 
presence  of  the  President  Gilmour,  lauding  the  late  English 
judges  for  the  equity  of  their  proceedings,  his  lordship  angrily 
remarked:  'De'il  thank  them;  a  wheen  kinless  loons!'  That 
is,  no  thanks  to  them ;  a  set  of  fellows  without  relations  in  the 
country,  and  who,  consequently,  had  no  one  to  please  by  their 
decisions. 

After  the  Restoration,  there  was  no  longer  direct  bribing,  but 
other  abuses  still  flourished.  The  judges  were  tampered  with 
by  private  solicitation.  Decisions  went  in  favour  of  the  man  of 
most  personal  or  family  influence.  The  following  anecdote  of 
the  reign  of  Charles  II.  rests  on  excellent  authority :  '  A  Scotch 
gentleman  having  entreated  the  Earl  of  Rochester  to  speak  to 
the  Duke  of  Lauderdale  upon  the  account  of  a  business  that 
seemed  to  be  supported  by  a  clear  and  undoubted  right,  his 
lordship  very  obligingly  promised  to  do  his  utmost  endeavours 
to  engage  the  duke  to  stand  his  friend  in  a  concern  so  just  and 
reasonable  as  his  was ;  and  accordingly,  having  conferred  with 
his  Grace  about  the  matter,  the  duke  made  him  this  very  odd 
return,  that  though  he  questioned  not  the  right  of  the  gentleman 
he  recommended  to  him,  yet  he  could  not  promise  him  a 
helping-hand,  and  far  less  success  in  business,  if  he  knew  not 
first  the  man,  whom  perhaps  his  lordship  had  some  reason  to 
conceal ;  "  because,"  said  he  to  the  earl,  "  if  your  lordship  were 
as  well  acquainted  with  the  customs  of  Scotland  as  I  am,  you 
had  undoubtedly  known  this  among  others — Shew  me  the  man, 


136  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

and  lUl  shew y oil  the  law;''''  giving  him  to  understand  that  the 
law  in  Scotland  could  protect  no  man,  if  either  his  purse  were 
empty,  or  his  adversaries  great  men,  or  supported  by  great  ones.'* 

One  peculiar  means  of  favouring  a  particular  party  was  then 
in  the  power  of  the  presiding  judge  :  he  could  call  a  cause  when 
he  pleased.  Thus  he  would  watch  till  one  or  more  judges  who 
took  the  opposite  view  to  his  own  were  out  of  the  way — either 
in  attendance  on  other  duties,  or  from  illness — and  then  calling 
the  cause,  would  decide  it  according  to  his  predilection.  Even 
the  first  President  Dalrymple,  afterwards  Viscount  Stair,  one  of 
the  most  eminent  men  whom  the  Scottish  law-courts  have  ever 
produced,  condescended  to  favour  a  party  in  this  way.  An  act, 
enjoining  the  calling  of  causes  according  to  their  place  in  a 
regular  roll,  was  passed  in  the  reign  of  Charles  II. ;  but  the 
practice  was  not  enforced  till  the  days  of  President  Forbes, 
sixty  years  later.  We  have  a  remarkable  illustration  of  the 
partiality  of  the  bench  in  a  circumstance  which  took  place 
about  the  time  of  the  Revolution.  During  the  pleadings  in  a 
case  between  Mr  Pitilloch,  an  advocate,  and  Mr  Aytoun  of 
Inchdairnie,  the  former  applied  the  term  briber  to  Lord  Harcarse, 
a  judge  seated  at  the  moment  on  the  bench,  and  who  was 
father-in-law  to  the  opposite  party.  The  man  was  imprisoned 
for  contempt;  but  this  is  not  the  point.  Not  long  after,  in  this 
same  cause,  Lord  Harcarse  went  down  to  the  bar  in  his  gown, 
and  pleaded  for  his  son-in-law  Aytoun  ! 

About  that  period  a  curious  indirect  means  of  influencing  the 
judges  began  to  be  notorious.  Each  lord  had  a  dependant  or 
favourite,  generally  some  young  relative,  practising  in  the  court, 
through  whom  it  was  understood  that  he  could  be  prepossessed 
with  a  favourable  view  of  any  cause.  This  functionary  was 
called  a  Peat  or  Pate,  from  a  circumstance  thus  related  in 
Wilkes's  North  Briton:  '  One  of  the  former  judges  of  the  Court 
of  Session,  of  the  first  character,  knowledge,  and  application  to 
business,  had  a  son  at  the  bar  whose  name  was  Patrick ;  and 

•  A  Moral  Discourse  on  the  Power  of  Interest.  By  David  Abercromby,  M.D. 
London,  1691.     P.  60. 


JUSTICE   IN   BYGONE  TIMES.  I37 

when  the  suitors  came  about,  soHciting  his  favour,  his  question 
was :  "  Have  you  consulted  Pat  1 "  If  the  answer  was  affirmative, 
the  usual  reply  of  his  lordship  was  :  "  I  '11  inquire  of  Fat  about 
it :  I  '11  take  care  of  your  cause :  go  home  and  mind  your 
business."  The  judge,  in  that  case,  was  even  as  good  as  his 
word,  for  while  his  brother-judges  were  robing,  he  would  tell 
them  what  pains  his  son  had  taken,  and  what  trouble  he  had 
put  himself  to,  by  his  directions,  in  order  to  find  out  the  real 
circumstances  of  the  dispute;  and  as  no  one  on  the  bench 
would  be  so  unmannerly  as  to  question  the  veracity  of  the  son, 
or  the  judgment  of  the  father,  the  decree  always  went  according 
to  the  information  of  Pat  At  the  present  era,  in  case  a  judge 
has  no  son  at  the  bar,  his  nearest  relation  (and  he  is  sure  to 
have  one  there)  officiates  in  that  station.  But,  as  it  frequently 
happens,  if  there  are  Pats  employed  on  each  side,  the  judges 
differ,  and  the  greatest  interest — that  is,  the  longest  purse — is 
sure  to  carry  it.' 

I  bring  the  subject  to  a  conclusion  by  a  quotation  from  the 
Coicrt  of  Session  Garland:  'Even  so  far  down  as  1737,  traces  of 
the  ancient  evil  may  be  found.  Thus,  in  some  very  curious 
letters  which  passed  between  William  Foulis,  Esq.  of  Woodhall, 
and  his  agent,  Thomas  Gibson  of  Durie,  there  is  evidence  that 
private  influence  could  even  then  be  resorted  to.  The  agent 
writes  to  his  client,  in  reference  to  a  pending  lawsuit  (23d 
November  1735) :  "I  have  spoke  to  Strachan  and  several  of  the 
lords,  who  are  all  surprised  Sir  F[rancis  Kinloch]  should  stand 
that  plea.  By  Lord  St  Clair's  advice,  Mrs  Kinloch  is  to  wait 
on  Lady  Caimie  to-morrow,  to  cause  her  ask  the  favour  of  Lady 
St  Clair  to  solicit  Lady  Betty  Elphingston  and  Lady  Dun.  My 
lord  promises  to  back  his  lady,  and  to  ply  both  their  lords,  also 
Leven  and  his  cousin  Murkle.*  He  is  your  good  friend,  and 
wishes  success;  he  is  jealous  Mrs  Mackie  will  side  with  her 
cousin  Beatie.     St  Clair  says  Leven  t  has  only  once  gone  wrong 

*  John  Sinclair  of  Murkle,  appointed  a  Lord  of  Session  in  1733. 

t  Alexander  Leslie,  advocate,  succeeded  his  nephew  as  fifth  Earl  of  Leven,  and  fourth 
Earl  of  Melville,  in  1729.  He  was  named  a  Lord  of  Session,  and  took  his  seat  on  the 
bench  on  the  nth  of  July  1734.     He  died  2d  February  1754. 


138  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

Upon  his  hand  since  he  was  a  Lord  of  Session.  Mrs  Kinloch  has 
been  with  Miss  Pringle,  Newhall.  Young  Dr  Pringle  is  a  good 
agent  there,  and  discourses  Lord  Newhall  *  strongly  on  the  law  of 
nature"  &c. 

'Again,  upon  the  23d  of  January  1737,  he  writes:  "I  can 
assure  you  that  when  Lord  Primrose  left  this  town,  he  stayed  all 
that  day  with  Lord  J[ustice]  C[lerk],t  and  went  to  Andrew 
Broomfield  at  night,  and  went  off  post  next  morning ;  and  what 
made  him  despair  of  getting  anything  done  was,  that  it  has  been 
so  long  delayed,  after  promising  so  frankly,  when  he  knew  the 
one  could  cause  the  other  trot  to  him  like  a  penny-dog,  when  he 
pleased.  But  there 's  another  hindrance :  I  suspect  much  Penty :{: 
has  not  been  in  town  as  yet,  and  I  fancy  it 's  by  him  the  other 
must  be  managed.     The  Ld.  J[ustice]  C[lerk]  is  frank  enough, 

but  the  other  two  are clippies.     I  met  with  Bavelaw  and 

Mr  William  on  Tuesday  last.  I  could  not  persuade  the  last  to 
go  to  a  wine-house,  so  away  we  went  to  an  aquavity-house, 
where  I  told  Mr  Wm.  what  had  passed,  as  I  had  done  before 
that  to  Bavelaw.  They  seemed  to  agree  nothing  could  be  done 
just  now,  but  to  know  why  Lord  Drummore  §  dissuaded  bringing 
in  the  plea  last  winter.  I  have  desired  Lord  Jlainifig  to  sj>eak, 
but  only  expect  his  answer  against  Tuesday  or  Wednesday." 

'  It  is  not  our  intention  to  pursue  these  remarks  further, 
although  we  believe  that  judicial  corruption  continued  long  after 
the  Union.  We  might  adduce  Lord  President  Forbes  as  a 
witness  on  this  point,  who,  one  of  the  most  upright  la^vyers 
himself,  did  not  take  any  pains  to  conceal  his  contempt  for 
many  of  his  brethren.  A  favourite  toast  of  his  is  said  to  have 
been :  "  Here 's  to  such  of  the  judges  as  don't  deserve  the 
gallows."  Latterly,  the  complaint  against  the  judges  was  not 
so  much  for  corrupt  dealing,  with  the  view  of  enriching  them- 
selves  or   their   "pet"   lawyer,   but  for  weak  prejudices   and 

•  Sir  Walter  Pringle  of  Newhall,  raised  to  the  bench  in  1718. 

t  Andrew  Fletcher  of  Milton  was  appointed,  on  the  resignation  of  James  Erskine  of 
Grange,  Lord  Justice-clerk,  and  took  his  seat  on  the  bench  21st  June  1735. 
t  Probably  Gibson  of  Pentland. 
§  Hew  Dahymple  of  Drummore,  appointed  a  Lord  of  Session  in  1726. 


COURT   OF   SESSION   GARLAND.  139 

feelings,   which   but  ill  accorded  with   the    high    office    they 
filled. 

'These  abuses,  the  recapitulation  of  which  may  amuse  and 
instruct,  are  now  only  matter  of  history — the  spots  that  once 
sullied  the  garments  of  justice  are  efiaced,  and  the  old  compend, 
"Shew  me  the  man,  and  I'll  shew  you  the  law,"  is  out  of 
date.' 

COURT   OF    SESSION   GARLAND. 

A  curious  characteristic  view  of  the  Scottish  bench  about  the 
year  1 7  7 1  is  presented  in  a  doggerel  ballad,  supposed  to  have 
been  a  joint  composition  of  James  Boswell  and  John  Maclaurin, 
advocates,  and  professedly  the  history  of  a  process  regarding  a 
bill  containing  a  clause  of  penalty  in  case  of  failure.  This  Court 
of  Session  Garland,  as  it  is  called,  is  here  subjoined,  with  such 
notes  on  persons  and  things  as  the  reader  may  be  supposed  to 
require  or  care  for. 

PART  FIRST. 

The  bill  charged  on  was  payable  at  sight, 
And  decree  was  craved  by  Alexander  Wight ;  ^ 
But  because  it  bore  a  penalty  in  case  of  Tailzie, 
It  therefore  was  null,  contended  Willie  Baillie.^ 

The  Ordinary,  not  choosing  to  judge  it  at  random. 
Did  with  the  minutes  make  avisandum  ; 
And  as  the  pleadings  were  vague  and  windy, 
His  lordship  ordered  memorials  hinc  inde. 

We,  setting  a  stout  heart  to  a  stay  brae, 

Took  into  the  cause  Mr  David  Rae.^ 

Lord  Auchinleck,''  however,  repelled  our  defence. 

And,  over  and  above,  decerned  for  expense. 

1  Author  of  a  Treatise  on  Election  Laws,  and  Solicitor-general  during  the  Coalition 
Ministry  in  1783. 

-  Afterwards  Lord  Polkemmet. 

3  Afterwards-  Lord  Eskgrove  and  Lord  Justice-clerk. 

*  Alexander  Boswell,  Esq.,  of  Auchinleck,  the  author's  father — appointed  to  the  bench  in 
I7S4 ;  died  1782.  This  gentleman  was  a  precise  old  Presbyterian,  and  therefore  the 
most  opposite  creature  in  the  world  to  his  son,  who  was  a  cavalier  in  politics,  and  an 
Episcopalian. 

J 


I40  TRADITIONS    OF   EDINBURGH. 

However,  of  our  cause  not  being  ashamed, 
Unto  the  whole  lords  we  straightway  reclaimed  ; 
And  our  Petition  was  appointed  to  be  seen. 
Because  it  was  drawn  by  Robbie  Macqueen.'- 

The  Answer  by  Lockhart^  himself  it  was  wrote, 
And  in  it  no  argument  nor  fact  was  forgot. 
He  is  the  lawyer  that  from  no  cause  will  flinch, 
And  on  this  occasion  divided  the  bench. 

Alemore  ^  the  judgment  as  illegal  blames  ; 

*  'Tis  equity,  you  bitch,'  replies  my  Lord  Kames.* 

'  This  cause,'  cries  Hailes,^  '  to  judge  I  can't  pretend, 
"For  justice,  I  perceive,  wants  an  e  at  the  end.' 

Lord  Coalstoun  ^  expressed  his  doubts  and  his  fears  ; 
And  Strichen  ^  threw  in  his  weel-weeh  and  oh  dears. 

*  This  cause  much  resembles  the  case  of  Mac-Harg, 
And  should  go  the  same  way,'  says  Lordie  Barjarg.^ 

*  Let  me  tell  you,  my  lords,  this  cause  is  no  joke  ! ' 
Says,  with  a  horse-laugh,  my  Lord  Elliock.^ 

'  To  have  read  all  the  papers  I  pretend  not  to  brag  ! ' 
Says  my  Lord  Gardenstone,^'  with  a  snuff  and  a  wag. 

1  Afterwards  Lord  Braxfield — appointed  1776  ;  died  1800,  while  holding  the  office  of  Lord 
Justice-clerk. 

2  Alexander  Lockhart,  Esq.,  decidedly  the  greatest  lawyer  at  the  Scottish  bar  in  his  day 
— appointed  to  the  bench  in  1774  ;  died  in  1782. 

3  Andrew  Pringle,  Esq. — appointed  a  judge  in  1759  ;  died  1776.  This  gentleman  was 
remarkable  for  his  fine  oratory,  which  was  praised  highly  by  Sheridan  the  lecturer  (father  of 
R.  B.  Sheridan),  in  his  Discourses  on  English  Oratory. 

*  Henry  Home,  Esq. — raised  to  the  bench  1732  ;  died  17S3.  This  great  man,  so  remark- 
able for  his  metaphysical  subtlety  and  literary  abilities,  was  strangely  addicted  to  the  use  of 
the  coarse  word  in  the  text. 

5  Sir  David  Dabymple — appointed  a  judge  in  1766  ;  died  1792.  A  story  is  told  of  Lord 
Hailes  once  making  a  serious  objection  to  a  law-paper,  and,  in  consequence,  to  the  whole 
suit  to  which  it  belonged,  on  account  of  the  word  jtistice  being  spelt  in  the  manner  mentioned 
in  the  text.  Perhaps  no  author  ever  affected  so  much  critical  accuracy  as  Lord  Hailes,  and 
yet  there  never  was  a  book  published  with  so  large  an  array  of  corrigenda  et  addenda  as 
the  first  edition  of  the  Annals  of  Scotland. 

^  George  Brown,  Esq.,  of  Coalstoun — appointed  1756  ;  died  1776. 

'  Alexander  Eraser  of  Strichen — appointed  1730 ;  died  1774. 

^  James  Erskine,  Esq.,  subsequently  titled  Lord  Alva — appointed  1761 ;  died  1796.  He 
was  of  exceedingly  small  stature,  and  upon  that  account  denominated  '  Lordie.' 

'  James  Veitch,  Esq. — appointed  1761 ;  died  1793. 

1"  Francis  Garden,  Esq. — appointed  1764;  died  1793 — author  of  several  respectable  literary 
productions. 


COURT   OF   SESSION   GARLAND.  141 

Up  rose  the  President,  ^  and  an  angiy  man  was  he — 

'  To  alter  the  judgment  I  can  never  agree  ! ' 

The  east  wing  cried  *  Yes,'  and  the  west  wing  cried  '  Not  ;' 

And  it  was  carried  '  Adhere  '  2  by  my  lord's  casting  vote. 

The  cause  being  somewhat  knotty  and  perplext, 

Their  lordships  did  not  know  how  they  'd  determine  next ; 

And  as  the  session  was  to  rise  so  soon, 

They  superseded  extract  till  the  12th  of  June.^ 


PART  SECOND. 

Having  lost  it  so  nigh,  we  prepare  for  the  summer. 
And  on  the  I2th  of  June  presented  a  reclaimer ; 
But  dreading  a  refuse,  we  gave  Dundas  *  a  fee, 
And  though  it  run  nigh,  it  was  carried  '  To  See.'^ 

In  order  to  bring  aid  from  usage  bygone, 

The  Answers  were  drawn  by  quondam  Mess  John.^ 

He  united  with  such  art  our  law  vrith  the  civil. 

That  the  counsel  on  both  sides  wished  him  to  the  deviL 

The  cause  being  called,  my  Lord  Justice-clerk/ 

With  all  due  respect,  began  a  loud  bark  : 

He  appealed  to  his  conscience,  his  heart,  and  from  thence 

Concluded — '  To  Alter,'  but  to  give  no  expense. 

1  Robert  Dundas,  Esq.,  of  Amis^n — appointed  1760  ;  died  1787. 

2  The  bench  being  semicircular,  and  the  President  sitting  in  the  centre,  the  seven  judges 
on  his  right  hand  formed  the  east  wing,  those  on  his  left  formed  the  "west.  The  decisions 
were  generally  announced  by  the  words  '  Adhere '  and  '  Alter ' — the  former  meaning  an 
affirmance,  the  latter  a  reversal,  of  the  judgment  of  the  Lord  Ordinary. 

3  The  term  of  the  summer  session  was  then  from  the  12th  of  June  to  the  12th  of  August. 

*  Henry,  first  Viscount  Melville,  then  coming  forward  as  an  advocate  at  the  Scottish  bar. 
When  this  great  man  passed  advocate,  he  was  so  low  in  cash,  that,  after  going  through  the 
necessary  forms,  he  had  only  one  guinea  left  in  his  pocket.  Upon  coming  home,  he  gave 
this  to  his  sister  (who  lived  with  him),  in  order  that  she  might  purchase  him  a  gown  ;  after 
which  he  had  not  a  peimy.  However,  his  talents  soon  filled  his  coffers.  The  gown  is  yet 
preserved  by  the  family. 

5  '  To  See,'  is  to  appoint  the  petition  against  the  judgment  pronounced  to  be  answered. 

*  John  Erskine  of  Camock,  author  of  the  Ifistitiite  of  the  Law  of  Scotland. 

'  Thomas  Miller,  Esq.,  of  Glenlee — appointed  to  this  office  in  1766,  upon  the  death  of 
Lord  Minto.      He  filled  this  situation  till  the  death  of  Robert  Dundas,  in  17S7,  when 
(January  i788)"he  was  made  President  of  the  Court  of  Session,  and  created  a  baronet, ' 
in  requital  for  his  long  services  as  a  judge.     Being  then  far  advanced  in  life,  he  did  not 
live  long  to  enjoy  his  new  accession  of  honours,  but  died  in  September  1789. 


142  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

Lord  Stonefield,^  unwilling  his  judgment  to  pother, 
Or  to  be  atiticipate,  agreed  with  his  brother : 
But  Monboddo  ^  was  clear  the  bill  to  enforce, 
Because,  he  observed,  it  was  the  price  of  a  horse. 

Says  Pitfour,'  with  a  wink,  and  his  hat  all  a-jee, 
'  I  remember  a  case  in  the  year  twenty-three — 
The  Magistrates  of  Banff  contra  Robert  Carr ; 
I  remember  weel — I  was  then  at  the  bar. 

Likewise,  my  lords,  in  the  case  of  Peter  Caw, 

Stiperflua  non  nocent  was  found  to  be  law.' 

Lord  Kennet  *  also  quoted  the  case  of  one  Lithgow, 

Where  a  penalty  in  a  bill  was  held  pro  nott  scripto.  i 

The  Lord  President  brought  his  chair  to  the  plumb. 
Laid  hold  of  the  bench,  and  brought  forward  his  bum  ; 
'  In  these  Answers,  my  lords,  some  freedoms  are  used, 
"Which  I  could  point  out,  provided  I  choosed. 

I  was  for  the  interlocutor,  my  lords,  I  admit, 
But  am  open  to  conviction  as  long 's  I  here  do  sit. 
To  oppose  your  precedents,  I  quote  a  few  cases  ;' 
And  TaitjS  di priori,  hurried  up  the  causes.. 

He  proved  it  as  clear  as  the  sun  in  the  sky. 
That  their  maxims  of  law  could  not  here  apply ; 
That  the  writing  in  question  was  neither  bill  nor  band, 
But  something  unknown  in  the  law  of  the  land. 

The  question — '  Adhere,'  or  '  Alter,'  being  put. 
It  was  carried — *To  Alter,'  by  a  casting  vote  ; 
Baillie  then  moved — '  In  the  bill  there 's  a  raze  ;' 
But  by  this  time  their  lordships  had  called  a  new  cause. 

A  few  additions  to  the  notes,  in  a  more  liberal  space,  will 
complete  what  I  have  to  set  down  regarding  the  lawyers  of  the 
last  age. 

1  John  Campbell,  Esq.,  of  Stonefield. 

2  James  Burnet,  Esq. — appointed  1767  ;  died  1799. 

s  James  Fergusson,  Esq. — appointed  1761 ;  died  1777.     He  always  wore  his  hat  on  the 
bench,  on  account  of  sore  eyes. 
*  Robert  Bruce,  Esq. — appointed  1764 ;  died  1785. 
»  Alexander  Tait,  Clerk  of  Session. 


'  LOCKHART  OF  COVINGTON.  1 43 

LOCKHART  OF  COVINGTON. 

Lockhart  used  to  be  spoken  of  by  all  old  men  about  the 
Court  of  Session  as  a  paragon.  He  had  been  at  the  bar  from 
1722,  and  had  attained  the  highest  eminence  long  before  going 
upon  the  bench,  which  he  did  at  an  unusually  late  period  of 
life;  yet  so  different  were  those  times  from  the  present,  that, 
according  to  the  report  of  Sir  William  Macleod  Bannatyne  to 
myself  in  1833,  Lockhart  realised  only  about  a  thousand  a  year 
by  his  exertions,  then  thought  a  magnificent  income.  The  first 
man  at  the  Scottish  bar  in  our  day  is  believed  to  gain  at  least 
six  times  this  sum  annually.  Lockhart  had  an  isolated  house 
behind  the  Parliament  Close,  which  was  afterwards  used  as  the 
Post-office.*  It  was  removed,  some  years  ago,  to  make  way  for 
the  extension  of  the  buildings  connected  with  the  court ;  leaving 
only  its  coach-house  surviving,  now  occupied  as  a  broker's  shop 
in  the  Cowgate. 

Mr  Lockhart  and  Mr  Fergusson  (afterwards  Lord  Pitfour) 
were  rival  barristers — agreeing,  however,  in  their  politics,  which 
were  of  a  Jacobite  complexion.  While  the  trials  of  the  poor 
forty-five  men  were  going  on  at  Carlisle,  these  Scottish  lawyers 
heard  with  indignation  of  the  unscrupulous  measures  adopted 
to  procure  convictions.  They  immediately  set  off  for  Carlisle, 
arranging  with  each  other  that  Lockhart  should  examine 
evidence,  while  Fergusson  pleaded  and  addressed  the  jury — 
and  offering  their  services,  they  were  gladly  accepted  as  counsel 
by  the  unfortunates  whose  trials  were  yet  to  take  place.  Each 
exerted  his  abilities,  in  his  respective  duties,  with  the  greatest 
solicitude,  but  with  very  little  effect.     The  jurors  of  Carlisle  had 

*  Within  the  memory  of  an  old  citizen,  who  was  living  in  1833,  the  Post-office  was  in 
the  first  floor  of  a  house  near  the  Cross,  above  an  alley  which  still  bears  the  name  of 
the  Post-office  Close.  Thence  it  was  removed  to  a  floor  in  the  south  side  of  the  Parliament 
Square,  which  was  fitted  up  like  a  shop,  and  the  letters  were  dealt  across  an  ordinary 
counter,  like  other  goods.  At  this  time  all  the  out-of-door  business  of  delivery  was 
managed  by  one  letter-carrier.  About  174s,  the  London  bag  brought  on  one  occasion  no 
more  than  a  single  letter,  addressed  to  the  British  Linen  Company.  From  the  Parliament 
Square  the  office  was  removed  to  Lord  Covington's  house,  above  described  ;  thence,  after 
some  years,  to  a  house  in  North  Bridge  Street ;  thence  to  Waterloo  Place  ;  and  finally,  to 
a  new  and  handsome  structure  on  the  North  Bridge. 


144  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

been  so  frightened  by  the  Highland  army,  that  they  thought 
everything  in  the  shape  or  hue  of  tartan  a  damning  proof  of 
guilt ;  and,  in  truth,  there  seemed  to  be  no  discrimination  what- 
ever exerted  in  inquiring  into  the  merits  of  any  particular 
criminal;  and  it  might  have  been  just  as  fair,  and  much  more 
convenient,  to  try  them  by  wholesale,  or  in  companies.  At 
length  one  of  our  barristers  fell  upon  an  ingenious  expedient, 
which  had  a  better  effect  than  all  the  eloquence  he  had 
expended.  He  directed  his  man-servant  to  dress  himself  in 
some  tartan  habiliments,  to  skulk  about  for  a  short  time  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  the  town,  and  then  permit  himself  to  be 
taken.  The  man  did  so,  and  was  soon  brought  into  court,  and 
accused  of  the  crime  of  high  treason,  and  would  have  been 
condemned  to  death,  had  not  his  master  stood  up,  claimed  him 
as  his  servant,  and  proved  beyond  dispute  that  the  supposed 
criminal  had  been  in  immediate  attendance  upon  his  person 
during  the  whole  time  of  the  Rebellion.  This  staggered  the 
jury;  and,  with  the  aid  of  a  little  amplification  from  the  mouth 
of  the  young  advocate,  served  to  make  them  more  cautious 
afterwards  in  the  delivery  of  their  important  fiat. 

To  shew  the  estimation  in  which  Lockhart  of  Covington  was 
held  as  an  advocate,  the  late  Lord  Newton,  when  at  the  bar, 
wore  his  gown  till  it  was  in  tatters,  and  at  last  had  a  new  one 
made,  with  a  fragment  of  the  neck  of  the  original  sewed  into 
it,  whereby  he  could  still  make  it  his  boast  that  he  wore 
'  Covington's  gown.' 

'LORD   KAMES. 

This  able  judge  and  philosopher  in  advance  of  his  time — for 
such  he  was — is  described  by  his  biographer.  Lord  Wood- 
houselee,  as  indulging  in  a  certain  humorous  playfulness,  which, 
to  those  who  knew  him  intimately,  detracted  nothing  from  the 
feeling  of  respect  due  to  his  eminent  talents  and  virtues.  To 
strangers,  his  lordship  admits,  it  might  convey  'the  idea  of 
lightness.'  The  simple  fact  here  shadowed  forth  is,  that  Lord 
Karnes  had  a  roughly  playful  manner,  and  used  .phrases  of  an 


LORD   KAMES.  145 

ultra-eccentric  character.  Among  these  was  a  word  only 
legitimately  applicable  to  the  female  of  the  canine  species. 
The  writer  of  the  Garland  introduces  this  characteristic  phrase. 
When  his  lordship  found  his  end  approaching  very  near,  he 
took  a  public  farewell  of  his  brethren.  I  was  informed  by  an 
ear-and-eye  witness,  who  is  certain  that  he  could  not  be  mis- 
taken, that,  after  aJ&ressing  them  in  a  solemn  speech,  and 
shaking  their  hands  all  round,  in  going  out  at  the  door  of  the 
court-room  he  turned  about,  and  casting  them  a  last  look,  cried, 
in  his  usual  familiar  tone  :  '  Fare  ye  a'  weel,  ye  bitches  ! '  He 
died  eight  days  after. 

It  was  remarked  that  a  person  called  Sinkum  the  Cawdy, 
who  had  a  short  and  a  long  leg,  and  was  excessively  addicted  to 
swearing,  used  to  lie  in  wait  for  Lord  Karnes  almost  every 
morning,  and  walk  alongside  of  him  up  the  street  to  the  Parlia- 
ment House.  The  mystery  of  Sterne's  little  flattering  French- 
man, who  begged  so  successfully  from  the  ladies,  was  scarcely 
more  wonderful  than  this  intimacy,  which  arose  entirely  from 
Lord  Kames's  love  of  the  gossip  which  Sinkum  made  it  his 
business  to  cater  for  him. 

These  are  not  follies  of  the  wise.  They  are  only  the  tribute 
which  great  genius  pays  to  simple  nature.  The  serenity  which 
marked  the  close  of  the  existence  of  Kames  was  most  creditable 
to  him,  though  it  appeared,  perhaps,  in  somewhat  whimsical 
forms  to  his  immediate  friends.  For  three  or  four  days  before 
his  death,  he  was  in  a  state  of  great  debility.  Some  one  coming 
in,  and  finding  him,  notwithstanding  his  wesikness,  engaged  in 
dictating  to  an  amanuensis,  expressed  surprise.  '  How,  man,' 
said  the  declining  philosopher,  '  would  you  ha'e  me  stay  wi'  my 
tongue  in  my  cheek  till  death  comes  to  fetch  me?' 

LORD   HAILES. 

When  Lord  Hailes  died,  it  was  a  long  time  before  any  will 
could  be  found.  The  heir-male  was  about  to  take  possession 
of  his  estates,  to  the  exclusion  of  his  eldest  daughter.  Some 
months  after  his  lordship's  death,  when  it  was  thought  that  all 


146  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

further  search  was  vain,  Miss  Dalrymple  prepared  to  retire  from 
New  Hailes,  and  also  from  the  mansion-house  in  New  Street, 
having  lost  all  hope  of  a  will  being  discovered  in  her  favour. 
Some  of  her  domestics,  however,  were  sent  to  lock  up  the  house 
in  New  Street,  and  in  closing  the  window-shutters,  Lord  Hailes's 
will  dropped  out  upon  the  floor  from  behind  a  panel,  and  was 
found  to  secure  her  in  the  possession  of^itiis  estates,  which  she 
enjoyed  for  upwards  of  forty  years. 

The  literary  habits  of  Lord  Hailes  were  hardly  those  which 
would  have  been  expected  from  his  extreme  nicety  of  phrase. 
The  late  Miss  Dalrymple  once  did  me  the  honour  to  shew  me 
the  place  where  he  wrote  the  most  of  his  works — not  the  fine 
room  which  contained,  and  still  contains,  his  books — no 
secluded  boudoir,  or  den,  where  he  could  shut  out  the  world, 
but  the  parlour  fireside,  where  sat  his  wife  and  children. 

[1868. — Now  that  the  grave  has  for  thirty  years  closed  over 
Miss  Dalrymple,  it  may  be  allowable  to  tell  that  she  was  of 
dwarfish  and  deformed  figure,  while  amiable  and  judicious  above 
the  average  of  her  sex.  Taking  into  view  her  beautiful  place 
of  residence  and  her  large  wealth,  she  remarked  to  a  friend  one 
day :  '  I  can  say,  for  the  honour  of  man,  that  I  never  got  an 
offer  in  my  life.'] 

LORD    GARDENSTONE. 

This  judge  had  a  predilection  for  pigs.  One,  in  its  juvenile 
years,  took  a  particular  fancy  for  his  lordship,  and  followed  him 
wherever  he  went,  like  a  dog,  reposing  in  the  same  bed.  When 
it  attained  the  mature  years  and  size  of  swinehood,  this  of  course 
was  inconvenient.  However,  his  lordship,  unwilling  to  part 
with  his  friend,  continued  to  let  it  sleep  at  least  in  the  same 
room,  and,  when  he  undressed,  laid  his  clothes  upon  the  floor 
as  a  bed  to  it.  He  said  that  he  liked  it,  for  it  kept  his  clothes 
warm  till  the  morning.  In  his  mode  of  living  he  was  full  of 
strange,  eccentric  fancies,  which  he  seemed  to  adopt  chiefly 
with  a  view  to  his  health,  which  was  always  that  of  a 
valetudinarian. 


LORD   MONBODDO.  1 47 


LORD   PRESIDENT   DUNDAS. 


This  distinguished  judge  was,  in  his  latter  years,  extremely 
subject  to  gout,  and  used  to  fall  backwards  and  forwards  in  his 
chair — whence  the  ungracious  expression  in  the  Garland.  He 
used  to  characterise  his  six  clerks  thus :  '  Two  of  them  cannot 
read;  t^vo  of  them  cannot  write;  and  the  other  two  can  neither 
read  nor  write  P  The  eccentric  Sir  James  Colquhoun  was  one 
of  those  who  could  not  read.  In  former  times,  it  was  the  practice 
of  the  Lord  President  to  have  a  sand-glass  before  him  on  the 
bench,  with  which  he  used  to  measure  out  the  utmost  time  that 
could  be  allowed  to  a  judge  for  the  delivery  of  his  opinion. 
Lord  President  Dundas  would  never  allow  a  single  moment  after 
the  expiration  of  the  sand,  and  he  has  often  been  seen  to  shake 
his  old-fashioned  chronometer  ominously  in  the  faces  of  his 
brethren,  when  their  'ideas  upon  the  subject'  began,  in  the 
words  of  the  Garla?id,  to  get  vague  and  ^vindy. 

LORD  MONBODDO. 

Lord  Monboddo's  motion  for  the  enforcement  of  the  bill,  on 
account  of  its  representing  the  value  of  a  horse,  is  partly  an 
allusion  to  his  Gulliverlike  admiration  of  that  animal,  but  more 
particularly  to  his  having  once  embroiled  himself  in  an  action 
respecting  a  horse  which  belonged  to  himself  His  lordship  had 
committed  the  animal,  when  sick,  to  the  charge  of  a  farrier, 
with  directions  for  the  administration  of  a  certain  medicine. 
The  farrier  gave  the  medicine,  but  went  beyond  his  commission^ 
in  as  far  as  he  mixed  it  in  a  liberal  menstruum  of  treacle,  in  order 
to  make  it  palatable.  The  horse  dying  next  morning,  Lord 
Monboddo  raised  a  prosecution  for  its  value,  and  actually 
pleaded  his  own  cause  at  the  bar.  He  lost  the  case,  however ; 
and  is  said  to  have  been  so  enraged  in  consequence  at  his 
brethren,  that  he  never  afterwards  sat  with  them  upon  the  bench, 
but  underneath,  amongst  the  clerks.  The  report  of  this  action 
is   exceedingly  amusing,  on   account  of  the  great  quantity  of 


I4o  TRADITIONS    OF   EDINBURGH. 

Roman  law  quoted  by  the  judges,  and  the  strange  circumstances 
under  which  the  case  appeared  before  them. 

Lord  Monboddo,  with  all  his  oddities,  and  though  generally- 
hated  or  despised  by  his  brethren,  was  by  far  the  most  learned, 
and  not  the  least  upright,  judge  of  his  time.  His  attainments 
in  classical  learning,  and  in  the  study  of  the  ancient  philosophers, 
were  singular  in  his  time  in  Scotland,  and  might  have  qualified 
him  to  shine  anywhere.  He  was  the  earliest  patron  of  one  of 
the  best  scholars  of  his  age,  the  late  Professor  John  Hunter  of 
St  Andrews,  who  was  for  many  years  his  secretary,  and  who 
chiefly  wrote  the  first  and  best  volume  of  his  lordship's  Treatise 
on  the  Origin  of  Languages. 

The  manners  of  Lord  Monboddo  were  not  more  odd  than  his 
personal  appearance.  He  looked  rather  like  an  old  stufi"ed 
monkey,  dressed  in  a  judge's  robes,  than  anything  else.  His 
face,  however,  '  sicklied  o'er '  with  the  pale  cast  of  thought,  bore 
traces  of  high  intellect.  So  convinced  is  he  said  to  have  been 
of  the  truth  of  his  fantastic  theory  of  human  tails,  that  whenever 
a  child  happened  to  be  bom  in  his  house,  he  would  watch  at 
the  chamber-door,  in  order  to  see  it  in  its  first  state,  having  a 
notion  that  the  midwives  pinched  off  the  infant  tails. 

There  is  a  tradition  that  Lord  Monboddo  attended  and  \At- 
nessed  the  catastrophe  of  Captain  Porteous  in  1736.  He  had 
just  that  day  returned  from  completing  his  law  education  at 
Leyden,  and  taken  lodgings  near  the  foot  of  the  West  Bow, 
where  at  that  time  many  of  the  greatest  la\vyers  resided.  When 
the  rioters  came  down  the  Bow  with  their  hapless  victim,  Mr 
Burnet  was  roused  from  bed  by  the  noise,  came  down  in  his 
night-gown  with  a  candle  in  his  hand,  and  stood  in  a  sort  of 
stupor,  looking  on,  till  the  tragedy  was  concluded. 

PARLIAMENT   HOUSE   WORTHIES. 

Scott  has  sketched  in  Peter  Peebles  the  type  of  a  class  of 
crazy  and  half-crazy  litigants,  who  at  all  times  haunt  the  Parlia- 
ment House.  Usually  they  are  rustic  men  possessing  small 
properties,  such  as  a  house  and  garden,  which  they  are  constantly 


PARLIAMENT   HOUSE  WORTHIES.  1 49 

talking  of  as  their  'subject.'  Sometimes  a  faded  shawl  and 
bonnet  is  associated  with  the  case — objects  to  be  dreaded  by 
every  good-natuxed  member  of  the  bar.  But  most  frequently  it 
is  simple  countrymen  who  become  pests  of  this  kind.  That  is 
to  say,  simple  men  of  difficult  and  captious  tempers,  cursed  with 
an  over-strong  sense  of  right,  or  an  over-strong  sense  of  wrong, 
under  which  they  would,  by  many  degrees,  prefer  utter  ruin  to 
making  the  slightest  concession  to  a  neighboiu:.  Ruined  these 
men  often  are ;  and  yet  it  seems  ruin  well  bought,  since  they 
have  all  along  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  themselves  and  their 
little  affairs  the  subject  of  consideration  amongst  men  so  much 
above  themselves  in  rank. 

Peebles  was,  as  we  are  assured  by  the  novelist  himself,  a  real 
person,  who  frequented  the  Edinburgh  courts  of  justice  about 
the  year  1792,  and  '  whose  voluminous  course  of  litigation  sensed 
as  a  sort  of  essay  piece  to  most  young  men  who  were  called  to 
the  bar.'  *  Many  persons  recollect  him  as  a  tall,  thin,  slouching 
man,  of  homely  outworn  attire,  understood  to  be  a  native  of 
Linlithgow.  Having  got  into  law  about  a  small  house,  he 
became  deranged  by  the  cause  going  against  him,  and  then 
peace  was  no  more  for  him  on  earth.  He  used  to  tell  his  friends 
that  he  had  at  present  thirteen  causes  in  hand,  but  was  only 
going  to  '  move  in '  seven  of  them  this  session.  When  anxious 
for  a  consultation  on  any  of  his  affairs,  he  would  set  out  from 
his  native  burgh  at  the  time  when  other  people  were  going  to 
bed,  and  reaching  Edinburgh  at  four  in  the  morning,  would  go 
about  the  town,  ringing  the  bells  of  the  principal  advocates,  in 
the  vain  hope  of  getting  one  to  rise  and  listen  to  him,  to  the 
infinite  annoyance  of  many  a  poor  serving-girl,  and  no  less  of  the 
Town-guard,  into  whose  hands  he  generally  fell. 

Another  specimen  of  the  class  was  Campbell  of  Laguine,  who 
had  perhaps  been  longer  at  law  than  any  man  of  modem  times. 
He  was  a  store-farmer  in  Caithness,  and  had  immense  tracts  of 
land  under  lease.  When  he  sold  his  wool,  he  put  the  price  in 
his  pocket  (no  petty  sum),  and  came  down  to  waste  it  in  the 

-*  Notes  to  Redgauntlei. 


150  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

Court  of  Session.  His  custom — an  amusing  example  of  method 
in  madness — was  to  pay  every  meal  which  he  made  at  the  inns 
on  the  road  double,  that  he  might  have  a  gratis  meal  on  his 
return,  knowing  he  would  not  bring  a  cross  away  in  his  pocket 
from  the  courts  of  justice.  Laguine's  figure  was  very  extra- 
ordinary. His  legs  were  like  two  circumflexes,  both  curving 
outward  in  the  same  direction ;  so  that,  relative  to  his  body,  they 
took  the  direction  of  the  blade  of  a  reaping-hook,  supposing  the 
trunk  of  his  person  to  be  the  handle.  These  extraordinary  legs 
were  always  attired  in  Highland  trews,  as  his  body  was  generally 
in  a  gray  or  tartan  jacket,  with  a  bonnet  on  his  head ;  and  duly 
appeared  he  at  the  door  of  the  Parliament  House,  bearing  a 
tin  case,  fully  as  big  as  himself,  containing  a  plan  of  his  farms. 
He  paid  his  lawyers  highly,  but  took  up  a  great  deal  of  their 
time.  One  gentleman,  afterv/ards  high  in  official  situation, 
observed  him  coming  up  to  ring  his  bell,  and  not  wishing  that 
he  himself  should  throw  away  his  time,  or  Laguine  his  fee, 
directed  that  he  should  be  denied.  Laguine,  however,  made  his 
way  to  the  lady  of  the  learned  counsel,  and  sitting  down  in  the 
drawing-room,  went  at  great  length  into  the  merits  of  his  cause, 
and  exhibited  his  plans ;  and  when  he  had  expatiated  for  a 
couple  of  hours,  he  departed,  but  not  without  leaving  a  handsome 
fee,  observing  that  he  had  as  much  satisfaction  as  if  he  had 
seen  the  learned  counsel  himself  He  once  told  a  legal  friend 
of  the  writer  that  his  laird  and  he  were  nearly  agreed  now — there 
was  only  about  ten  miles  of  comttry  contested  betwixt  them  ! 
When  finally  this  great  cause  was  adjusted,  his  agent  said : 
'Well,  Laguine,  what  will  ye  do  now?'  rashly  judging  that  one 
who  had,  in  a  manner,  lived  upon  law  for  a  series  of  years, 
would  be  at  a  loss  how  to  dispose  of  himself  now.  *  No  difficulty 
there,'  answered  Laguine ;  '  I  '11  dispute  your  account,  and  go 
to  law  with  youP  Possessed  as  he  was  by  a  demon  of  litigation, 
Campbell  is  said  to  have  been,  apart  from  his  disputes,  a  shrewd 
and  sensible,  and,  moreover,  an  honourable  and  worthy  man. 
He  was  one  of  the  first  who  introduced  sheep-farming  into  Ross- 
shire  and  Caithness,  where  he  had  farms  as  large  as  some  whole 


PARLIAMENT   HOUSE   WORTHIES.  15! 

Lowland  or  English  counties ;  and  but  for  litigation,  he  had  the 
opportunity  of  making  much  money, 

A  person  usually  called,  from  his  trade,  the  Heckler,  was 
another  Parliament  House  worthy.  He  used  to  work  the  whole 
night  at  his  trade — then  put  on  a  black  suit — curled  his  hair 
behind,  and  powdered  it,  so  as  to  resemble  a  clergyman — and 
came  forth  to  attend  to  the  great  business  of  the  day  at  the 
Parliament  House.  He  imagined  that  he  was  deputed  by 
Divine  Providence  as  a  sort  of  controller  of  the  Court  of 
Session;  but,  as  if  that  had  not  been  sufficient,  he  thought 
the  charge  of  the  General  Assembly  was  also  committed  to  him ; 
and  he  used  to  complain  that  that  venerable  body  was  '  much 
worse  to  keep  in  good  order'  than  the  la\vyers.  He  was  a  little, 
smart,  well-brushed,  neat-looking  man,  and  used  to  talk  to  him- 
self, smile,  and  nod  with  much  vivacity.  Part  of  his  lunacy  was 
to  believe  himself  a  clergyman ;  and  it  was  chiefly  the  Teind 
Court  which  he  haunted,  his  object  there  being  to  obtain  an 
augmentation  of  his  stipend.  The  appearance  and  conversation 
of  the  man  were  so  plausible,  that  he  once  succeeded  in  imposing 
himself  upon  Dr  Blair  as  a  preacher,  and  obtained  permission  to 
hold  forth  in  the  High  Church  on  the  ensuing  Sunday.  He  was 
fortunately  recognised  when  about  to  mount  the  pulpit.  Some 
idle  boys  about  the  Parliament  House,  where  he  was  a  constant 
attendant,  persuaded  him  that,  as  he  held  two  such  dignified 
offices  as  his  imagination  shaped  out,  there  must  be  some  salary 
attached  to  them,  payable,  like  others  upon  the  Establishment, 
in  the  Exchequer.  This  very  nearly  brought  about  a  serious 
catastrophe;  for  the  poor  madman,  finding  his  applications 
slighted  at  the  Exchequer,  came  there  one  day  with  a  pistol 
heavily  loaded,  to  shoot  Mr  Baird,  a  very  worthy  man,  an  officer 
of  that  court.  This  occasioned  the  Heckler  being  confined  in 
durance  vile  for  a  long  time,  though,  I  think,  he  was  at  length 
emancipated. 

Other  insane  fishers  in  the  troubled  waters  of  the  law  were  the 
following : 

Macduff  of  Ballenloan,  who  had  two  cases  before  the  court 


152  TRADITIONS   OF  EDINBURGH. 

at  once.  His  success  in  the  one  depended  upon  his  shewing 
that  he  had  capacity  to  manage  his  own  affairs;  and  in  the 
other,  upon  his  proving  himself  incapable  of  doing  so.  He 
used  to  complain,  with  some  apparent  reason,  that  he  lost  them 
both! 

Andrew  Nicol,  who  was  at  law  thirty  years  about  a  midden- 
stead — Anglice,  the  situation  of  a  dunghill.  This  person  was  a 
native  of  Kinross,  a  sensible-looking  country-man,  with  a  large 
flat  blue  bonnet,  in  which  guise  Kay  has  a  very  good  portrait  of 
him,  displaying,  with  chuckling  pride,  a  plan  of  his  precious 
midden-stead.  He  used  to  frequent  the  Register  House,  as 
well  as  the  courts  of  law,  and  was  encouraged  in  his  foolish 
pursuits  by  the  roguish  clerks  of  that  establishment,  by  whom  he 
was  denominated  Muck  Andrew,  in  allusion  to  the  object  of  his 
litigation.  This  wretched  being,  after  losing  property  and  credit, 
and  his  own  senses,  in  following  a  valueless  phantom,  died  at 
last  (18 1 7)  in  Cupar  jail,  where  he  was  placed  by  one  of  his 
legal  creditors. 


CONVIVIAL!  A. 

'  Auld  Reekie  !  wale  o'  ilka  toon 
That  Scotland  kens  beneath  the  moon  ; 
Where  coothy  chields  at  e'enin'  meet, 
I  Their  bizzin'  craigs  and  mous  to  weet, 

And  blithely  gar  auld  care  gae  by, 
Wi'  blinkin'  and  wi'  bleerin'  eye.' 

Robert  Fergusson. 

Tavern  dissipation,  now  so  rare  amongst  the  respectable  classes 
of  the  community,  formerly  prevailed  in  Edinburgh  to  an  incred- 
ible extent,  and  engrossed  the  leisure  hours  of  all  professional 
men,  scarcely  excepting  even  the  most  stern  and  dignified.  No 
rank,  class,  or  profession,  indeed,  formed  an  exception  to  this 
rule.     Nothing  was  So  common  in  the  morning  as  to  meet  men 


CON  VI VI  ALIA.  153 

of  high  rank  and  official  dignity  reeUng  home  from  a  close  in  the 
High  Street,  where  they  had  spent  the  night  in  drinking.  Nor 
was  it  unusual  to  find  two  or  three  of  his  majesty's  most  honour- 
able Lords  of  Council  and  Session  mounting  the  bench  in  the 
forenoon  in  a  crapulous  state.  A  gentleman  one  night  stepping 
into  Johnnie  Dowie's,  opened  a  side-door,  and  looking  into  the 
room,  saw  a  sort  of  agger  or  heap  of  snoring  lads  upon  the  floor, 
illumined  by  the  gleams  of  an  expiring  candle.  '  Wha  may  thae 
be,  Mr  Dowie  ?'  inquired  the  visitor.  '  Oh,'  quoth  John,  in  his 
usual  quiet  way,  '  just  twa-three  o'  Sir  Willie's  drucken  clerks  1 ' 
— meaning  the  young  gentlemen  employed  in  Sir  William 
Forbes's  banking-house,  whom,  of  all  earthly  mortals,  one 
would  have  expected  to  be  observers  of  the  decencies. 

To  this  testimony  may  be  added  that  of  all  published  works 
descriptive  of  Edinburgh  during  the  last  century.  Even  in  the 
preceding  century,  if  we  are  to  believe  Taylor  the  Water-poet, 
there  was  no  superabundance  of  sobriely  in  the  town.  'The 
worst  thing,'  says  that  sly  humorist  in  hfe  Journey  (1623),  'was, 
that  wine  and  ale  were  so  scarce,  and  the  people  such  misers  of 
it,  that  every  night,  before  I  went  to  bed,  if  any  man  had  asked 
me  a  civil  question,  all  the  wit  in  my  head  could  not  have  made 
him  a  sober  answer.' 

The  diurnal  of  a  Scottish  judge  of  the  beginning  of  the  last 
century,  which  I  have  perused,  presents  a  striking  picture  of  the 
habits  of  men  of  business  in  that  age.  Hardly  a  night  passes 
without  some  expense  being  incurred  at  taverns,  not  always  of 
very  good  fame,  where  his  lordship's  associates  on  the  bench 
were  his  boon-companions  in  the  debauch.  One  is  at  a  loss  to 
understand  how  men  who  drugged  their  understandings  so  habit- 
ually, could  possess  any  share  of  vital  faculty  for  the  consideration 
or  transaction  of  business,  or  how  they  contrived  to  make  a 
decent  appearance  in  the  hours  of  duty.  But,  however  difficult 
to  be  accounted  for,  there  seems  no  room  to  doubt  that  deep 
drinking  was  compatible  in  many  instances  with  good  business 
talents,  and  even  application.  Many  living  men  connected  with 
the  Court  of  Session  can  yet  look  back  to  a  juvenile  period  of 


154  TRADITIONS   OF  EDINBURGH. 

their  lives,  when  some  of  the  ablest  advocates  and  most  esteemed 
judges  were  noted  for  their  convivial  habits.  For  example,  a 
famous  counsel  named  Hay,  who  became  a  judge  under  the 
designation  of  Lord  Newton,  was  equally  remarkable  as  a 
bacchanal  and  as  a  lawyer.  He  considered  himself  as  only 
the  better  fitted  for  business,  that  he  had  previously  imbibed  six 
bottles  of  claret ;  and  one  of  his  clerks  afterwards  declared  that 
the  best  paper  he  ever  knew  his  lordship  dictate,  was  done  after 
a  debauch  where  that  amount  of  liquor  had  fallen  to  his  share. 
It  was  of  him  that  the  famous  story  is  told  of  a  client  calling  for 
him  one  day  at  four  o'clock,  and  being  surprised  to  find  him  at 
dinner ;  when,  on  the  client  saying  to  the  servant  that  he  had 
understood  five  to  be  Mr  Hay's  dinner-hour — '  Oh  but,  sir,'  said 
the  man,  '  it  is  his  yesterdays  dinner  P  M.  Simond,  who,  in 
1811,  published  a  Tour  in  Scotland,  mentions  his  surprise  on 
stepping  one  morning  into  the  Parliament  House  to  find,  in  the 
dignified  capacity  of  a  judge,  and  displaying  all  the  gravity 
suitable  to  the  character,  the  very  gentleman  with  whom  he  had 
spent  most  of  the  preceding  night  in  a  fierce  debauch.  This 
judge  was  Lord  Newton. 

Contemporary  with  this  learned  lord  was  another  of  marvellous 
powers  of  drollery,  of  whom  it  is  told,  as  a  fact  too  notorious  at 
the  time  to  be  concealed,  that  he  was  one  Sunday  morning,  not 
long  before  church-time,  found  asleep  amongst  the  paraphernalia 
of  the  sweeps,  in  a  shed  appropriated  to  the  keeping  of  these 
articles,  at  the  end  of  the  Town  Guard-house  in  the  High  Street. 
His  lordship,  in  staggering  homeward  alone  from  a  tavern  during 
the  night,  had  tumbled  into  this  place,  where  consciousness  did 
not  revisit  him  till  next  day.  Of  another  group  of  clever,  but 
over-convivial  lawyers  of  that  age,  it  is  related  that,  having  set 
to  wine  and  cards  on  k  Saturday  evening,  they  were  so  cheated 
out  of  all  sense  of  time,  that  the  night  passed  before  they  thought 
of  separating.  Unless  they  are  greatly  belied,  the  people  passing 
along  Picardy  Place  next  forenoon,  on  their  way  to  church, 
were  perplexed  by  seeing  a  door  open,  and  three  gentlemen 
issue  forth,  in  all  the  disorder  to  be  expected  after  a  night  of 


CONVIVIALIA.  155 

drunken  vigils,  while  a  fourth,  in  his  dressing-gown,  held  the 
door  in  one  hand  and  a  lighted  candle  in  the  other,  by  way  of 
shewing  them  out ! 

The  High  Jinks  of  Counsellor  Pleydell,  in  Guy  Mannering, 
must  have  prepared  many  for  these  curious  traits  of  a  bypast 
age ;  and  Scott  has  further  illustrated  the  subject  by  telling,  in 
his  notes  to  that  novel,  an  anecdote  which  he  appears  to  have 
had  upon  excellent  authority,  respecting  the  elder  President 
Dundas  of  Amiston,  father  of  Lord  Melville.  '  It  had  been 
thought  very  desirable,  while  that  distinguished  lawyer  was 
king's  counsel,  that  his  assistance  should  be  obtained  in  drawing 
up  an  appeal  case,  which,  as  occasion  for  such  writings  then 
rarely  occurred,  was  held  to  be  a  matter  of  great  nicety.  The 
solicitor  employed  for  the  appellant,  attended  by  my  informant, 
acting  as  his  clerk,  went  to  the  Lord  Advocate's  chambers  in  the 
Fishmarket  Close,  as  I  think.  It  was  Saturday  at  noon,  the 
court  was  just  dismissed,  the  Lord  Advocate  had  changed  his 
dress  and  booted  himself,  and  his  servant  and  horses  were  at  the 
foot  of  the  close,  to  carry  him  to  Arniston.  It  was  scarcely 
possible  to  get  him  to  listen  to  a  word  respecting  business.  The 
wily  agent,  however,  on  pretence  of  asking  one  or  two  questions, 
which  would  not  detain  him  half  an  hour,  drew  his  lordship,  who 
was  no  less  an  eminent  bon-vivafit  than  a  lawyer  of  unequalled 
talent,  to  take  a  whet  at  a  celebrated  tavern,  when  the  learned 
counsel  became  gradually  involved  in  a  spirited  discussion  of 
the  law  points  of  the  case.  At  length  it  occurred  to  him  that 
he  might  as  well  ride  to  Amiston  in  the  cool  of  the  evening. 
The  horses  were  directed  to  be  put  into  the  stable,  but  not  to 
be  unsaddled.  Dinner  was  ordered,  the  law  was  laid  aside  for 
a  time,  and  the  bottle  circulated  very  freely.  At  nine  o'clock  at 
night,  after  he  had  been  honouring  Bacchus  for  so  many  hours, 
the  Lord  Advocate  ordered  his  horses  to  be  unsaddled — paper, 
pen,  and  ink  were  brought — he  began  to  dictate  the  appeal 
case,  and  continued  at  his  task  till  four  o'clock  the  next 
morning.  By  next  day's  post  the  solicitor  sent  the  case 
to   London — a  chef-d'' ceuvre  of  its   kind ;   and   in  which,   my 

K 


156  TRADITIONS  OF  EDINBURGH. 

informant   assured   me,   it   was   not   necessary,   on  revigal,  to 
correct  five  words.' 

It  was  not  always  that  business  and  pleasure  were  so  success- 
fully united.  It  is  related  that  an,  eminent  lawyer^  who  was 
confined  to  his  room  by  indisposition,  having  occasion  for  the 
attendance  of  his  clerk  at  a  late  hour,  in  order  to  draw  up  a 
paper  required  on  an  emergency  next  morning,  sent  for  and 
found  him  at  his  usual  tavern.  The  man,  though  remarkable 
for  the  preservation  of  his  faculties  under  severe  application  to 
the  bottle,  was  on  this  night  further  gone  than  usual.  He  was 
able,  however,  to  proceed  to  his  master's  bedroom,  and  there 
'  take  his  seat  at  the  desk  with  the  appearance  of  a  sufficiently 
collected  mind,  so  that  the  learned  counsel,  imagining  nothing 
more  wrong  than  usual,  began  to  dictate  from  his  couch.  This 
went  on  for  two  or  three  hours,  till,  the  business  being  finished, 
the  barrister  drew  his  curtain — to  behold  Jamie  lost  in  a  pro- 
found sleep  upon  the  table,  with  the  paper  still  in  virgin  white- 
ness before  him ! 

One  of  the  most  notable  jolly  fellows  of  the  last  age  was 
James  Balfour,  an  accountant,  usually  called  Singing  Jamie 
Balfour,  on  account  of  his  fascinating  qualities  as  a  vocalist. 
There  used  to  be  a  portrait  of  him  in  the  Leith  Golf-house, 
representing  him  in  the  act  of  commencing  the  favourite  song  of 
When  I  hde  a  saxpence  under  my  tJioom,  with  the  suitable 
attitude,  and  a  merriness  of  countenance  justifying  the  tradition- 
ary account  of  the  man.  Of  Jacobite  leanings,  he  is  said  to 
have  sung  The  wee  German  lairdie,  Awa,  Whigs,  awa,  and  The 
sow's  tail  to  Geordie,  with  a  degree  of  zest  which  there  was  no 
resisting. 

Report  speaks  of  this  person  as  an  amiable,  upright,  and  able 
man  ;  so  clever  in  business  matters,  that  he  could  do  as  much 
in  one  hour  as  another  man  in  three ;  always  eager  to  quench 
and  arrest  litigation,  rather  than  to  promote  it;  and  consequently 
so  much  esteemed  professionally,  that  he  could  get  business 
whenever  he  chose  to  undertake  it,  which,  however,  he  only  did 
when  he  felt  himself  in  need  of  money.     Nature  had  given  him 


CON  VI VI  ALIA.  157 

a  robust  constitution,  which  enabled  him  to  see  out  three  sets  of 
boon-companions ;  but,  after  all,  gave  way  before  he  reached 
sixty.  His  custom,  when  anxious  to  repair  the  effects  of  intem- 
perance, was  to  wash  his  head  and  hands  in  cold  water ;  this,  it 
is  said,  made  him  quite  cool  and  collected  almost  immediately. 
Pleasure  being  so  predomiijant  an  object  in  his  life,  it  was 
thought  surprising  that  at  his  death  he  was  found  in  possession 
of  some  little  money. 

The  powers  of  Balfour  as  a  singer  of  the  Scotch  songs  of 
all  kinds,  tender  and  humorous,  are  declared  to  have  beea^ 
marvellous  j  and  he  had  a  happy  gift  of  suiting  them  to 
occasions.  Being  a  great  peacema.ker,  he  would  often  accom- 
plish his  purpose  by  introducing  some  ditty  pat  to  the  purpose, 
and  thus  dissolving  all  rancour  in  a  hearty  laugh.  Like  too 
many  of  our  countrymen,  he  had  a  contempt  for  foreign  music. 
One  evening,  in  a  company  where  an  Italian  vocalist  of 
eminence  was  present,  he  professed  to  give  a  song  in  the 
manner  of  that  country.  Forth  came  a  ridiculous  cantata  to 
the  tune  of  Aiken  Drum,  beginning :  '  There  was  a  wife  in 
Peebles,'  which  the  wag  executed  with  all  the '  proper  graces, 
shakes,  and  appogiaturas,  making  his  friends  almost  expire 
with  suppressed  laughter  at  the  contrast  between  the  style  of 
singing  and  the  ideas  conveyed  in  the  song.  At  the  conclusion, 
their  mirth  was  doubled  by  the  foreigner  saying  very  simply : 
'  De  music  be  very  fine,  but  I  no  understand  de  words.'  A  lady, 
who  lived  in  the  Parhament  Close,  told  a  friend  of  mine  that  she 
was  wakened  from  her  sleep  one  summer  morning  by  a  noise 
as  of  singing,  when,  going  to  the  window  to  learn  what  was  the 
matter,  guess  her  surprise  at  seeing  Jamie  Balfour,  and  some  of 
his  boon-companions  (evidently  fresh  from  their  wonted  orgies), 
singing  The  king  shall  enjoy  his  own  again,  on  their  knees, 
around  King  Charles's  statue !  One  of  Balfour's  favourite 
haunts  was  a  humble  kind  of  tavern  called  Jenny  Hds,  opposite 
to  Queensberry  House,  where,  it  is  said,  Gay  had  boosed  during 
his  short  stay  in  Edinburgh,  and  to  which  it  was  customary  for 
gentlemen  to  adjourn  from  dinner-parties,  in  order  to  indulge  in 


158  TRADITIONS   OF  EDINBURGH. 

claret  from  the  butt,  free  from  the  usual  domestic  restraints. 
Jamie's  potations  here  were  principally  of  what  was  called  cappie 
ale — that  is,  ale  in  little  wooden  bowls — with  wee  thochts  of 
brandy  in  it.  But  indeed  no  one  could  be  less  exclusive  than 
he  as  to  liquors.  When  he  heard  a  bottle  drawn  in  any  house 
he  happened  to  be  in,  and  observed  the  cork  to  give  an 
unusually  smart  report,  he  would  call  out :  *  Lassie,  gi'e  me  a 
glass  o'  that ;^  as  knowing  that,  whatever  it  was,  it  must  be  good 
of  its  kind. 

Sir  Walter  Scott  says,  in  one  of  his  droll  little  missives  to  his 
printer  Ballantyne :  '  When  the  press  does  not  follow  me,  I  get 
on  slowly  and  ill,  and  put  myself  in  mind  of  Jamie  Balfour,  who 
could  run,  when  he  could  not  stand  still.'  He  here  alludes  to  a 
matter  of  fact,  which  the  following  anecdote  will  illustrate : 
Jamie,  in  going  home  late  from  a  debauch,  happened  to  tumble 
into  the  pit  formed  for  the  foundation  of  a  house  in  James's 
Square.  A  gentleman  passing  heard  his  complaint,  and  going 
up  to  the  spot,  was  entreated  by  our  hero  to  help  him  out, 
'  What  would  be  the  use  of  helping  you  out,'  said  the  by-passer, 
'when  you  could  not  stand  though  you  zvere  out?'  'Very  true, 
perhaps ;  yet  if  you  help  me  up,  I  '11  rtm  you  to  the  Tron  Kirk 
for  a  bottle  of'  claret.'  Pleased  with  his  humour,  the  gentleman 
placed  him  upon  his  feet,  when  instantly  he  set  off  for  the  Tron 
Church  at  a  pace  distancing  all  ordinary  competition;  and 
accordingly  he  won  the  race,  though,  at  the  conclusion,  he  had 
to  sit  down  on  the  steps  of  the  church,  being  quite  unable  to 
stand.  After  taking  a  minute  or  two  to  recover  his  breath — 
'Well,  another  race  to  Fortune's  for  another  bottle  of  claret!' 
Off  he  went  to  the  tavern  in  question,  in  the  Stamp-office  Close, 
and  this  bet  he  gained  also.  The  claret,  probably  with  con* 
tinuations,  was  discussed  in  Fortune's ;  and  the  end  of  the  story 
is,  that  Balfour  sent  his  new  friend  home  in  a  chair,  utterly  done 
up,  at  an  early  hour  in  the  morning. 

It  is  hardly  surprising  that  habits  carried  to  such  an  extrava- 
gance amongst  gentlemen  should  have  in  some  small  degree 
affected  the  fairer  and  purer  part  of  creation  also.     It  is  an  old 


CONVIVIALIA.  159 

Story  in  Edinburgh,  that  three  ladies  had  one  night  a  merry- 
meeting  in  a  tavern  near  the  Cross,  where  they  sat  till  a  very 
late  hour.  Ascending  at  length  to  the  street,  they  scarcely 
remembered  where  they  were ;  but  as  it  was  good  moonlight, 
they  found  little  difficulty  in  walking  along  till  they  came  to  the 
Tron  Church.  Here,  however,  an  obstacle  occurred.  The 
moon,  shining  high  in  the  south,  threw  the  shadow  of  the 
steeple  directly  across  the  street  from  the  one  side  to  the  other ; 
and  the  ladies,  being  no  more  clear-sighted  than  they  were  clear- 
headed, mistook  this  for  a  broad  and  rapid  river,  which  they 
would  require  to  cross  before  making  further  way.  In  this 
delusion,  they  sat  down  upon  the  brink  of  the  imaginary  stream, 
dehberately  took  off  their  shoes  and  stockings,  kilted  their  lower 
garments,  and  proceeded  to  wade  through  to  the  opposite  side ; 
after  which,  resuming  their  shoes  and  stockings,  they  went  on 
their  way  rejoicing,  as  before  !  Another  anecdote  (from  an  aged 
nobleman)  exhibits  the  bacchanalian  powers  of  our  ancestresses 
in  a  different  light.  During  the  rising  of  17 15,  the  officers  of 
the  crown  in  Edinburgh,  having  procured  some  important 
intelligence  respecting  the  motions  and  intentions  of  the 
Jacobites,  resolved  upon  despatching  the  same  to  London  by 
a  faithful  courier.  ,  Of  this  the  party  whose  interests  would  have 
been  so  materially  affected  got  notice ;  and  that  evening,  as  the 
messenger  (a  man  of  rank)  was  going  down  the  High  Street, 
with  the  intention  of  mounting  his  horse  in  the  Canongate,  and 
immediately  setting  off,  he  met  two  tall  handsome  ladies,  in  full 
dress,  and  wearing  black  velvet  masks,  who  accosted  him  with 
a  very  easy  demeanour,  and  a  winning  sweetness  of  voice. 
Without  hesitating  as  to  the  quaUty  of  these  damsels,  he 
instantly  proposed  to  treat  them  with  a  pint  of  claret  at  a 
neighbouring  tavern ;  but  they  said  that,  instead  of  accepting  his 
kindness,  they  were  quite  willing  to  treat  him,  to  his  heart's 
content.  They  then  adjourned  to  the  tavern,  and  sitting  down, 
the  whole  three  drank  plenteously,  merrily,  and  long,  so  that  the 
courier  seemed  at  last  to  forget  entirely  the  mission  upon  which 
he  was  sent,  and  the  danger  of  the  papers  which  he  had  about 


l6o  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

his  person.  After  a  pertinacious  delDauch  of  several  hours,  the 
luckless  messenger  was  at  length  fairly  drunk  under  the  table ; 
and  it  is  needless  to  add,  that  the  fair  nymphs  then  proceeded 
to  strip  him  of  his  papers,  decamped,  and  were  no  more  heard 
of;  though  it  is  but  justice  to  the  Scottish  ladies  of  that  period 
to  say,  that  the  robbers  were  generally  believed  at  the  time 
to  be  young  men  disguised  in  women's  clothes.* 

The  custom  which  prevailed  among  ladies,  as  well  as  gentle- 
men, of  resorting  to  what  were  called  oyster-cellars,  is  in  itself 
a  striking  indication  of  the  state  of  manners  during  the  last 
century.  In  winter,  when  the  evening  had  set  in,  a  party  of 
the  most  fashionable  people  in  town,  collected  by  appointment, 
would  adjourn  in  carriages  to  one  of  those  abysses  of  darkness 
and  Qomfort,  called,  in  Edinburgh,  laigh  shops,  where  they  pro- 
ceeded to  regale  themselves  with  raw  oysters  and  porter, 
arranged  in  huge  dishes  upon  a  coarse  table,  in  a  dingy  room, 
lighted  by  tallow  candles.  The  rudeness  of  the  feast,  and  the 
vulgarity  of  the  circumstances  under  which  it  took  place,  seem 
to  have  given  a  zest  to  its  enjoyment,  with  which  more  refined 
banquets  could  not  have  been  accompanied.  One  of  the  chief 
features  of  an  oyster-cellar  entertainment  was,  that  full  scope 
was  given  to  the  conversational  powers  of  the  company.  Both 
ladies  and  gentlemen  indulged,  without  restraint,  in  sallies  the 
merriest  and  the  wittiest ;  and  a  thousand  remarks  and  jokes, 
which  elsewhere  would  have  been  suppressed  as  improper,  were 
here  sanctified  by  the  oddity  of  the  scene,  and  appreciated  by 
the  most  dignified  and  refined.  After  the  table  was  cleared  of 
the  oysters  and  porter,  it  was  customary  to  introduce  brandy  or 
rum-punch — according  to  the  pleasure  of  the  ladies — after  which 

*  It  was  very  common  for  Scotch  ladies  of  rank,  even  till  the  middle  of  the  last  century, 
to  wear  black  masks  in  walking  abroad,  or  airing  in  a  carriage  ;  and  for  some  gentlemen 
too,  who  were  vain  of  their  complexion.  They  were  kept  close  to  the  face  by  means  of  a 
string,  having  a  button  of  glass  or  precious  stone  at  the  end,  which  the  lady  held  in  her 
mouth.  This  practice,  I  understand,  did  not  in  the  least  interrupt  the  flow  of  tittle-tattle 
and  scandal  among  the  fair  wearers. 

We  are  told,  in  a  curious  paper  in  the  Edinburgh  Magazine  for  August  1S17,  that  at  the 
period  above  mentioned,  '  though  it  was  a  disgrace  for  ladies  to  be  seen  drunk,  yet  it  was 
none  to  be  a  little  intoxicated  in  good  company.' 


CONVIVIALIA.  l6l 

dancing  took  place ;  and  when  the  female  part  of  the  assemblage 
thought  proper  to  retire,  the  gentlemen  again  sat  down,  or 
adjourned  to  another  tavern,  to  crown  the  pleasures  of  the 
evening  with  an  unhmited  debauch.  It  is  not  (1824)  more 
than  thirty  years  since  the  late  Lord  Melville,  the  Duchess  of 
Gordon,  and  some  other  persons  of  distinction,  who  happened 
to  meet  in  town  after  many  years  of  absence,  made  up  an 
oyster-cellar  party,  by  way  of  a  frolic,  and  devoted  one  winter 
evening  to  the  revival  of  this  almost  forgotten  entertainment  of 
their  youth. '^ 

It  seems  difficult  to  reconcile  all  these  things  with  the  staid 
and  somewhat  square-toed  character  which  our  country  has 
obtained  amongst  her  neighbours.  The  fact  seems  to  be,  that  a 
kind  of  Laodicean  principle  is  observable  in  Scotland,  and  we 
oscillate  between  a  rigour  of  manners  on  the  one  hand,  and  a 
laxity  on  the  other,  which  alternately  acquire  an  apparent 
paramouncy.  In  the  early  part  of  the  last  century,  rigour  was 
in  the  ascendant ;  but  not  to  the  prevention  of  a  respectable 
minority  of  the  free-and-ea^y,  who  kept  alive  the  flame  of  con- 
viviality with  no  small  degree  of  success.  In  the  latter  half  of 
the  century — a  dissolute  era  all  over  civilised  Europe — the 
minority  became  the  majority,  and  the  characteristic  sobriety  of  the 
nation's  manners  was  only  traceable  in  certain  portions  of  society. 
Now  we  are  in  a  sober,  perhaps  tending  to  a  rigorous  stage 
once  more.  In  Edinburgh,  seventy  years  ago  (i  847),  intemperance 
was  the  rule  to  such  a  degree  that  exception  could  hardly  be 
said  to  exist.     Men  appeared  little  in  the  drawing-room  in  those 

*  The  principal  oyster-parties,  in  old  times,  took  place  in  Luckie  Middlemass's  tavern  in 
the  Cowgate  (where  the  south  pier  of  the  bridge  now  stands),  which  was  the  resort  of 
Fergusson  and  his  fellow-wits — as  witness  his  own  verse  : 

'  When  big  as  bums  the  gutters  rin. 
If  ye  ha'e  catched  a  droukit  skin. 
To  Luckie  Middlemist's  loup  in. 

And  sit  fu'  snug, 
Owre  oysters  and  a  dram  o'  gin, 
Or  haddock  lug.' 

At  these  fashionable  parties,  the  ladies  would  sometimes  have  the  oyster-women  to  dance 
in  the  ball-room,  though  they  were  known  to  be  of  the  worst  character.  This  went  imder 
the  convenient  name  ai frolic. 


l62  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

days  ;  when  they  did,  not  unfrequently  their  company  had  better 
have  been  dispensed  with.  When  a  gentleman  gave  an  enter- 
tainment, it  was  thought  necessary  that  he  should  press  the 
bottle  as  far  as  it  could  be  made  to  go.  A  particularly  good- 
fellow  would  lock  his  outer  door,  to  prevent  any  guest  of  dyspeptic 
tendencies  or  sober  inclinations  from  escaping.  Some  were  so 
considerate  as  to  provide  shake-down  beds  for  a  general  bivouac 
in  a  neighbouring  apartment.  When  gentlemen  were  obliged  to 
appear  at  assemblies  where  decency  was  enforced,  they  of  course 
wore  their  best  attire.  This  it  was  customary  to  change  for 
something  less  liable  to  receive  damage,  ere  going,  as  they 
usually  did,  to  conclude  the  evening  by  a  scene  of  conviviality. 
Drinking  entered  into  everything.  As  Sir  Alexander  Boswell 
has  observed : 

'  O'er  draughts  of  wine  the  beau  would  moan  his  love, 
O'er  draughts  of  wine  the  cit  his  bargain  drove, 
O'er  draughts  of  wine  the  writer  penned  the  will, 
And  legal  wisdom  counselled  o'er  a  gill.' 

Then  was  the  time  when  men,  despising  and  neglecting  the 
company  of  women,  always  so  civilising  in  its  influence,  would 
yet  half  kill  themselves  with  bumpers,  in  order,  as  the  phrase 
went,  to  save  them.  Drinking  to  save  the  ladies  is  said  to  have 
originated  with  a  catch-club,  which  issued  tickets  for  gratuitous 
concerts.  Many  tickets  with  the  names  of  ladies  being  prepared, 
one  was  taken  up,  and  the  name  announced.  Any  member 
present  was  at  liberty  to  toast  the  health  of  this  lady  in  a  bumper, 
and  this  insured  her  ticket  being  reserved  for  her  use.  If  no 
one  came  forward  to  honour  her  name  in  this  manner,  the  lady 
was  said  to  be  damned,  and  her  ticket  was  thrown  under  the 
table.  Whether  from  this  origin  or  not,  the  practice  is  said  to 
have  ultimately  had  the  following  form.  One  gentleman  would 
give  out  the  name  of  some  lady  as  the  most  beautiful  object  in 
creation,  and,  by  way  of  attesting  what  he  said,  drink  one  bumper. 
Another  champion  Avould  then  enter  the  field,  and  offer  to  prove 
that  a  certain  other  lady,  whom  he  named,  was  a  great  deal 
more  beautiful  than  she  just  mentioned — supporting  his  assertion  ■ 


CONVIVIALIA.  163 

by  drinking  two  bumpers.  Then  the  other  would  rise  up,  declare 
this  to  be  false,  and,  in  proof  of  his  original  statement,  as  well 
as  by  way  of  turning  the  scale  upon  his  opponent,  drink  four 
bumpers.  Not  deterred  or  repressed  by  this,  the  second  man 
would  reiterate,  and  conclude  by  drinking  as  much  as  the  chal- 
lenger ;  who  would  again  start  up  and  drink  eight  bumpers ;  and 
so  on,  in  geometrical  progression,  till  one  or  other  of  the  heroes 
fell  under  the  table;  when  of  course  the  fair  Delia  of  the  survivor 
was  declared  the  queen  supreme  of  beauty  by  all  present.  I 
have  seen  a  sonnet  addressed  on  the  morning  after  such  a  scene 
of  contention  to  the  lady  concerned,  by  the  unsuccessful  hero, 
whose  brains  appear  to  have  been  woefully  muddled  by  the 
claret  he  had  drunk  in  her  behalf. 

It  was  not  merely  in  the  evenings  that  taverns  were  then 
resorted  to.  There  was  a  petty  treat,  called  a  '  meridian,'  which 
no  man  of  that  day  thought  himself  able  to  dispense  with ;  and 
this  was  generally  indulged  in  at  a  tavern.  '  A  cauld  cock  and 
a  feather '  was  the  metaphorical  mode  of  calling  for  a  glass  of 
brandy  and  a  bunch  of  raisins,  which  was  the  favourite  regale  of 
many.  Others  took  a  glass  of  whisky ;  some  few  a  lunch. 
Scott  very  amusingly  describes,  from  his  own  observation,  the 
manner  in  which  the  affair  of  the  meridian  was  gone  about  by 
the  writers  and  clerks  belonging  to  the  ParHament  House.  '  If 
their  proceedings  were  watched,  they  might  be  seen  to  turn 
fidgety  about  the  hour  of  noon,  and  exchange  looks  with  each 
other  from  their  separate  desks,  till  at  length  some  one  of  formal 
and  dignified  presence  assumed  the  honour  of  leading  the  band; 
when  away  they  went,  threading  the  crowd  like  a  string  of  wild- 
fowl, crossed  the  square  or  close,  and  following  each  other  into 
the  [John's]  coffee-house,  drank  the  meridian,  which  was  placed 
ready  at  the  bar.  This  they  did  day  by  day ;  and  though  they 
did  not  speak  to  each  other,  they  seemed  to  attach  a  certain 
degree  of  sociability  to  performing  the  ceremony  in  company.' 

It  was  in  the  evening,  of  course,  that  the  tavern  debaucheries 
assumed  their  proper  character  of  unpalliated  fierceness  and 
destructive  duration.     In  the  words  of  Robert  Fergusson : 


164  TRADITIONS   OF  EDINBT;RGH. 

'  Now  night,  that 's  cunzied  chief  for  fiin. 
Is  with  her  usual  rites  begun. 

*  *  *  ♦ 
Some  to  porter,  some  to  punch, 

Retire ;  while  noisy  ten-hours'  drum 
'  Gars  a'  the  trades  gang  danderin'  hame. 

Now,  mony  a  club,  jocose  and  free, 
Gi'e  a'  to  merriment  and  glee ; 
Wi'  sang  and  glass  they  fley  the  power 
O'  care,  that  wad  harass  the  hour. 

*  *  *  * 

Chief,  O  Cape  !  we  crave  thy  aid. 
To  get  our  cares  and  poortith  laid. 
Sincerity  and  genius  true, 
O'  knights  have  ever  been  the  due. 
Mirth,  music,  porter  deepest-dyed. 
Are  never  here  to  worth  denied.' 

All  the  shops  in  the  town  were  then  shut  at  eight  o'clock;  and 
from  that  hour  till  ten — when  the  drum  of  the  Town-guard 
announced  at  once  a  sort  of  license  for  the  deluging  of  the 
streets  with  nuisances,  and  a  warning  of  the  inhabitants  home 
to  their  beds — unrestrained  scope  was  given  to  the  delights  of 
the  table.  No  tradesman  thought  of  going  home  to  his  family 
till  after  he  had  spent  an  hour  or  two  at  his  club.  This  was 
universal  and  unfailing.  So  lately  as  1824,  I  knew  something 
of  an  old-fashioned  tradesman  who  nightly  shut  his  shop  at  eight 
o'clock,  and  then  adjourned  with  two  old  friends  who  called 
upon  him  at  that  hour  to  a  quiet  old  public-house  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  way,  where  they  each  drank  precisely  one  bottle  of 
Edinburgh  ale,  ate  precisely  one  halfpenny  roll,  and  got  upon 
their  legs  precisely  at  the  first  stroke  of  ten  o'clock. 

The  Cape  Club  alluded  to  by  Fergusson  aspired  to  a  refined 
and  classical  character,  comprising  amongst  its  numerous  mem- 
bers many  men  of  talents,  as  well  as  of  private  worth.  Fergusson 
himself  was  a  member;  as  were  Mr  Thomas  Sommers,  his  friend 
and  biographer;  Mr  Woods,  a  player  of  eminence  on  the  humble 
boards  of  Edinburgh,  and  an  intimate  companion  of  the  poet ; 
and  Mr  Runciman  the  painter.     The  name  of  the  club  had  its 


THE   PIOUS   CLUB.  1 65 

foundation  in  one  of  those  weak  jokes  such  as  '  gentle  dulness 
ever  loves.'  A  person  who  lived  in  the  Calton  was  in  the 
custom  of  spending  an  hour  or  two  every  evening  with  one  or 
two  city  friends,  and  being  sometimes  detained  till  after  the 
regular  period  when  the  Netherbow  Port  was  shut,  it  occasionally 
'  happened  that  he  had  either  to  remain  in  the  city  all  night,  or 
was  under  the  necessity  of  bribing  the  porter  who  attended  the 
gate.  This  difficult  pass — ^partly  on  account  of  the  rectangular 
comer  which  he  turned,  immediately  on  getting  out  of  the  Port, 
as  he  went  homewards  down  Leith  Wynd — the  Calton  burgher 
facetiously  called  doubling  the  Cape;  and  as  it  was  customary 
with  his  friends,  every  evening  when  they  assembled,  to  inquire 
'  how  he  turned  the  Cape  last  night,'  and  indeed  to  make  that 
circumstance  and  that  phrase,  night  after  night,  the  subject  of 
their  conversation  and  amusement,  '  the  Cape '  in  time  became 
so  assimilated  with  their  very  existence,  that  they  adopted  it  as 
a  title ;  and  it  was  retained  as  such  by  the  organised  club  into 
which,  shortly  after,  they  thought  proper  to  form  themselves. 
The  Cape  Club  owned  a  regular  institution  from  1763.  It  will 
scarcely  be  credited  in  the  present  day  that  a  jest  of  the  above 
nature  could  keep  an  assemblage  of  rational  citizens,  and,  we 
may  add,  professed  wits,  merry  after  a  thousand  repetitions. 
Yet  it  really  is  true  that  the  patron-jests  of  many  a  numerous 
and  enlightened  association  were  no  better  than  this,  and  the 
greater  part  of  them  worse.     As  instance  the  following  : 

There  was  the  Antemanum  Club,  of  which  the  members  used 
to  boast  of  the  state  of  their  hands,  before-hand,  in  playing  at 
*  Brag.'  The  members  were  all  men  of  respectability,  some  of 
them  gentlemen  of  fortune.  They  met  every  Saturday,  and 
dined.  It  was  at  first  a  purely  convivial  club ;  but  latterly,  the 
Whig  party  gaining  a  sort  of  preponderance,  it  degenerated  into 
a  political  association. 

The  Pious  Club  was  composed  of  decent  orderly  citizens, 
who  met  every  night,  Sundays  not  excepted,  in  z.  pie-house,  and 
whose  joke  was  the  equivoque  of  these  expressions — similar  in 
sound,  but  different  in  signification.     The  agreeable  uncertainty 


1 66  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

as  to  whether  their  name  arose  from  their  piety,  or  the  circum- 
stance of  their  eating //<?j-,  kept  the  club  hearty  for  many  years. 
At  their  Sunday  meetings,  the  conversation  usually  took  a 
serious  turn — perhaps  upon  the  sermons  which  they  had 
respectively  heard  during  the  day :  this  they  considered  as 
rendering  their  title  of  Pious  not  altogether  undeserved.  More- 
over, they  were  all,  as  the  saying  was,  ten-ddock  me?i,  and  of 
good  character.  Fifteen  persons  were  considered  as  con- 
stituting a  full  night.  The  whole  allowable  debauch  was  a 
gill  of  toddy  to  each  person,  which  was  drunk,  like  wine,  out 
of  a  common  decanter.  One  of  the  members  of  the  Pious  Club 
was  a  Mr  Lind,  a  man  of  at  least  twenty-five  stone  weight, 
immoderately  fond  of  good  eating  and  drinking.  It  was 
generally  believed  of  him  that,  were  all  the  oxen  he  had 
devoured  ranged  in  a  line,  they  would  reach  from  the  Water- 
gate to  the  Castle-hill,  and  that  the  wine  he  had  drunk  would 
swim  a  seventy-four.  His  most  favourite  viand  was  a  very 
strange  one — salmon  skins.  When  dining  anywhere,  with 
salmon  on  the  table,  he  made  no  scruple  of  raking  all  the 
skins  off  the  plates  of  the  rest  of  the  guests.  He  had  only  one 
toast,  from  which  he  never  varied :  '  Merry  days  to  honest 
fellows.'  A  Mr  Drummond  was  esteemed  poet-laureate  to  this 
club.  He  was  a  facetious,  clever  man.  Of  his  poetical  talents, 
take  a  specimen  in  the  following  lines  on  Lind : 

'  In  going  to  dinner,  he  ne'er  lost  his  way, 
Though  often,  when  done,  he  was  carted  away.' 

He  made  the  folio-wing  impromptu  on  an  associate  of  small 
figure,  and  equally  small  understanding,  who  had  been  success- 
ful in  the  world : 

*  O  thou  of  genius  slow, 
"Weak  by  nature ; 
A  rich  fellow, 

But  a  poor  creature.' 

The  Spendthrift  Club  took  its  name  from  the  extravagance 
of  the  members  in  spending  no  less  a  sum  than  fourpence-half- 
penny  each  night !     It  consisted  of  respectable  citizens  of  the 


THE   BOAR   CLUB.  1 67 

middle  class,  and  continued  in  1824  to  exist  in  a  modified  state. 
Its  meetings,  originally  nightly,  were  then  reduced  to  four  a 
week.  The  men  used  to  play  at  whist  for  a  halfpenny — one, 
two,  three — no  rubbers ;  but  latterly,  they  had,  with  their 
characteristic  extravagance,  doubled  the  stake  !  Supper  origin- 
ally cost  no  less  than  twopence ;  and  half  a  bottle  of  strong  ale, 
with  a  dram,  stood  every  member  twopence-halfpenny;  to  all 
which  sumptuous  profusion  might  be  added  still  another  half- 
penny, which  was  given  to  the  maid-servant — in  all,  fivepence  ! 
Latterly,  the  dram  had  been  disused;  but  such  had  been  the 
general  increase,  either  in  the  cost  or  the  quantity  of  the 
indulgences,  that  the  usual  nightly  expense  was  ultimately  from 
a  shilling  to  one-and-fourpence.  The  winnings  at  whist  were 
always  thro\vn  into  the  reckoning.  A  large  two-quart  bottle,  or 
tappit-hen,  was  introduced  by  the  landlady,  with  a  small  measure, 
out  of  which  the  company  helped  themselves ;  and  the  members 
made  up  their  own  bill  with  chalk  upon  the  table.  In  1824,  in 
the  recollection  of  the  senior  members,  some  of  whom  were  of 
fifty  years'  standing,  the  house  was  kept  by  the  widow  of  a 
Lieutenant  Hamilton  of  the  army,  who  recollected  having 
attended  the  theatre  in  the  Tennis  Court  at  Holyroodhouse, 
when  the  play  was  the  Spanish  Friar,  and  when  many  of  the 
members  of  the  U?iio?i  Parlianie/it  were  present  in  the  house. 

The  Boar  Club  was  an  association  of  a  different  sort,  con- 
sisting chiefly  of  wild,  fashionable  young  men ;  and  the  place  of 
meeting  was  not  in  any  of  the  snug  profundities  of  the  Old  Town, 
but  in  a  modern  tavern  in  Shakspeare  Square,  kept  by  one 
Daniel  Hogg.  Thtjoke  of  this  club  consisted  in  the  supposi- 
tion that  all  the  members  were  boars — that  their  room  was  a  sty 
— that  their  talk  was  grunting — and  in  the  doubk-entendre  of  the 
small  piece  of  stoneware  which  served  as  a  repository  of  all  the 
fines,  being  d.pig.  Upon  this  they  lived  twenty  years.  I  have, 
at  some  expense  of  eyesight,  and  with  no  small  exertion  of 
patience,  perused  the  soiled  and  blotted  records  of  the  club, 
which  in  1824  were  preserved  by  an  old  vintner,  whose  house 
was  their  last  place  of  meeting;  and  the  result  has  been  the 


1 68  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

following  memorabilia.  The  Boar  Club  commenced  its  meetings 
in  1787,  and  the  original  members  wei-e  J.  G.  C.  Schetky,  a 
German  musician ;  David  Shaw ;  Archibald  Crawfuird ;  Patrick 
Robertson;  Robert  Aldridge,  a  famed  pantomimist  and  dancing- 
master  ;  James  Neilson ;  and  Luke  Cross.  Some  of  these  were 
remarkable  men,  in  particular  Mr  Schetky.  He  had  come  to 
Edinburgh  about  the  beginning  of  the  reign  of  ^George  III. 
He  used  to  tell  that,  on  alighting  at  Ramsay's  inn,  opposite  the 
Cowgate  Port,  his  first  impression  of  the  city  was  so  unfavour- 
able, that  he  was  on  the  point  of  leaving  it  again,  without  further 
acquaintance,  and  was  only  prevented  from  doing  so  by  the 
solicitations  of  his  fellow-traveller,  who  was  not  so  much 
alarmed  at  the  dingy  and  squalid  appearance  of  this  part  of 
Auld  Reekie.*  He  was  first  employed  at  St  Cecilia's  Hall, 
where  the  concerts  were  attended  by  all  the  '  rank,  beauty,  and 
fashion'  of  which  Edinburgh  could  then  boast,  and  where, 
besides  the  professional  performers,  many  amateurs  of  great 
musical  skill  and  enthusiasm,  such  as  Mr  Tytler  of  Wood- 
houselee,t  were  pleased  to  exhibit  themselves,  for  the  entertain- 

*  This  highly  appropriate  popular  sobriquet  cannot  be  traced  beyond  the  reign  of 
Charles  II.  Tradition  assigns  the  following  as  the  origin  of  the  phrase  :  An  old  gentleman 
in  Fife,  designated  Durham  of  Largo,  was  in  the  habit,  at  the  period  mentioned,  of  regu- 
lating the  time  of  evening  worship  by  the  appearance  of  the  smoke  of  Edinburgh,  which  he 
could  easily  see,  through  the  clear  summer  twilight,  from  his  own  door.  \Vhen  he  observed 
the  smoke  increase  in  density,  in  consequence  of  the  good  folk  of  the  city  preparing  their 
supper,  he  would  call  all  the  family  into  the  house,  saying:  '  It's  time  now,  bairns,  to  tak' 
the  beuks,  and  gang  to  our  beds,  for  yonder 's  Auld  Reekie,  I  see,  putting  on  her  nicht-cap  !' 

t  This  gentleman,  the  '  revered  defender  of  beauteous  Stuart,'  and  the  surviving  friend  of 
Allan  Ramsay,  had  an  unaccountable  aversion  to  cheese,  and  not  only  forbade  the  appear- 
ance of  that  article  upon  his  table,  but  also  its  introduction  into  his  house.'  His  family, 
who  did  not  partake  in  this  antipathy,  sometimes  smuggled  a  small  quantity  of  cheese 
into  the  house,  and  ate  it  in  secret ;  but  he  alniost  always  discovered  it  by  the  S7nell, 
which  was  the  sense  it  chiefly  offended.  Upon  scenting  the  object  of  his  disgust,  he  would 
start  up  and  run  distractedly  through  the  house  in  search  of  it,  and  not  compose  himself 
again  to  his  studies  till  it  was  thrown  out  of  doors.  Some  of  his  ingenious  children,  by 
way  of  a  joke,  once  got  into  their  possession  the  coat  with  which  he  usually  went  to  the 
court,  and  ripping  up  the  sutures  of  one  of  its  wide  old-fashioned  skirts,  sewed  up  therein 
a  considerable  slice  of  double  Gloster.  Mr  Tytler  was  next  day  surprised  when,  sitting 
near  the  bar,  he  perceived  the  smell  of  cheese  rising  around  him.  '  Cheese  here  too  !' 
cried  the  querulous  old  gentleman  ;  '  nay,  then,  the  whole  world  must  be  conspiring  against 
me  !'  So  saying,  he  rose,  and  ran  home  to  tell  his  piteous  case  to  Mrs  Tytler  and  the 
children,  who  became  convinced  from  this  that  he  really  possessed  the  singular  delicacy 
and  fastidiousness  in  respect  of  the  effluvia  arising  from  cheese  which  they  formerly  thought 
to  be  fanciful. 


THE   BOaR   club.  1 69 

ment  of  their  friends,  who  alone  were  admitted  by  tickets.  Mr 
Schetky  composed  the  march  of  a  body  of  volunteers  called  the 
Edinburgh  Defensive  Band,  which  was  raised  out  of  the  citizens 
of  Edinburgh  at  the  time  of  the  American  war,  and  was  com- 
manded by  the  eminent  advocate,  Crosbie.  One  of  the  verses 
to  which  the  march  was  set,  may  be  given  as  an  admirable 
specimen  oi  militia  poetry : 

'  Colonel  Crosbie  takes  the  field ; 
To  France  and  Spain  he  will  not  yield  ; 
But  still  maintains  his  high  command 
At  the  head  of  the  noble  Defensive  Band.'* 

Mr  Schetky  was  primarily  concerned  in  the  founding  of  the 
Boar  Club.  He  was  in  the  habit  of  meeting  every  night  with 
Mr  Aldridge,  and  one  or  two  other  professional  men,  or  gentle- 
men who  affected  the  society  of  such  persons,  in  Hogg's  tavern ; 
and  it  was  the  host's  name  that  suggested  the  idea  of  calling 
their  society  the  ^  Boar  Club.'  Their  laws  were  first  written 
down  in  proper  form  in  1790.  They  were  to  meet  ever)'- 
evening  at  seven  o'clock ;  each  boar,  on  his  entry,  to  contribute 
a  halfpenny  to  the  pig.  Mr  Aldridge  was  to  be  perpetual 
Grand-boar,  with  Mr  Schetky  for  hife  deputy;  and  there  were 
other  officers,  entitled  Secretary,  Treasurer,  and  Procurator- 
fiscal.  A  fine  of  one  halfpenny  was  imposed  upon  every 
person  who  called  one  of  his  brother-boars  by  his  proper  out-of- 
club  name — the  term  '  sir '  being  only  allowed.  The  entry- 
moneys,  fines,  and  other  pecuniary  acquisitions  were  hoarded 
for  a  grand  annual  dinner.  The  laws  were  revised  in  1799, 
when  some  new  officials  were  constituted,  such  as  Poet-laureate, 
Champion,  Archbishop,  and  Chief-grunter.  The  fines  were 
then  rendered  exceedingly  severe,  and  in  their  exaction  no  one 
met  with  any  mercy,  as  it  was  the  interest  of  all  the  rest  that  the 

*  The  dress  of  the  Edinburgh  Defensive  Band  was  as  follows  :  A  cocked  hat,  black  stock, 
hair  tied  and  highly  powdered ;  dark-blue  long-tailed  coat,  with  orange  facings  in  honour 
of  the  Revolution,  and  full  lapels  sloped  away  to  shew  the  white  dimity  vest ;  nankeen 
small-clothes ;  white  thread  stockings,  ribbed  or  plain ;  and  short  nankeen  spatterdashes. 
Kay  has  some  ingenious  caricatures,  in  miniature,  of  these  redoubted  Bruntsfield  Links  and 
Heriot's  Green  warriors.  The  last  two  survivors  were  Mr  John  M'Niven,  stationer,  and 
Robert  Stevenson,  painter,  who  died  in  1832. 


170  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH, 

pig  should  bring  forth  as  plenteous  2,  farrow  as  possible  at  the 
grand  dinner-day.  This  practice  at  length  occasioning  a  violent 
insurrection  in  the  sty,  the  whole  fraternity  was  broken  up,  and 
never  again  returned  to  'wallow  in  the  mire.' 

The  Hell-fire  Club,  a  terrible  and  infamous  association  of 
wild  young  men,  about  the  beginning  of  the  last  century,  met 
in  various  profound  places  throughout  Edinburgh,  where  they 
practised  orgies  not  more  fit  for  seeing  the  light  than  the  Eleu- 
sinian  Mysteries.  I  have  conversed  with  old  people  who  had 
seen  the  last  worn-out  members  of  the  Hell-fire  Club,  which,  in 
the  country,  is  to  this  day  believed  to  have  been  an  association 
in  compact  with  the  Prince  of  Darkness. 

Many  years  afterwards,  a  set  of  persons  associated  for  the 
purpose  of  purchasing  goods  condemned  by  the  Court  of 
Exchequer.  For  what  reason  I  cannot  tell,  they  called  them- 
selves the  Hell-fire  Club,  and  their  president  was  named  the 
Devil.  My  old  friend,  Henry  Mackenzie,  whose  profession  was 
that  of  an  attorney  before  the  Court  of  Exchequer,  wrote  me  a 
note  on  this  subject,  in  which  he  says  very  naively :  '  In  my 
youngest  days,  I  knew  the  Devil.' 

The  Sweating  Club  flourished  about  the  middle  of  the  last 
century.  They  resembled  the  Mohocks  mentioned  in  the 
Spectator.  After  intoxicating  themselves,  it  was  their  custom  to 
sally  forth  at  midnight,  and  attack  whomsoever  they  met  upon 
the  streets.  Any  luckless  wight  who  happened  to  fall  into  their 
hands  was  chased,  jostled,  pinched,  and  pulled  about,  till  he  not 
only  perspired,  but  was  ready  to  drop  down  and  die  with 
exhaustion.  Even  so  late  as  the  early  years  of  this  century, 
it  was  unsafe  to  walk  the  streets  of  Edinburgh  at  night,  on 
account  of  the  numerous  drunken  parties  of  young  men  who 
then  reeled  about,  bent  on  mischief,  at  all  hours,  and  from 
whom  the  Town-guard  were  unable  to  protect  the  sober  citizen. 

A  club  called  the  Industrious  Company  may  serve  to  shew 
how  far  the  system  of  drinking  was  carried  by  our  fathers.  It 
was  a  sort  of  joint-stock  company,  formed  by  a  numerous  set  of 
porter-drinkers,  who  thought  fit  to  club  towards  the  formation  of 


THE   INDUSTRIOUS   COMPANY.  171 

a  Stock  of  that  liquor,  which  they  might  partly  profit  by  retailing, 
and  partly  by  the  opportunity  thus  afforded  them  of  drinking 
their  own  particular  tipple  at  the  wholesale  price.  Their  cellars 
were  in  the  Royal  Bank  Close,  where  they  met  every  night  at 
eight  o'clock.  Each  member  paid  at  his  entry  ^^,  and  took  his 
turn  montlily  of  the  duty  of  superintending  the  general  business 
of  the  company.  But  the  curse  of  joint-stock  companies — 
negligence  on  the  part  of  the  managers — ultimately  occasioned 
the  ruin  of  the  Industrious  Company. 

About  1790,  a  club  of  first-rate  citizens  used  to  meet,  each 
Saturday  afternoon,  for  a  coujitry  dinner,  in  a  tavern  which  still 
exists  in  the  village  of  Canonmills,  a  place  now  involved  within 
the  limits  of  the  New  Town.  To  quote  a  brief  memoir  on  the 
subject,  handed  to  me  many  years  ago  by  a  veteran  friend,  who 
was  a  good  deal  of  the  laudator  taiiporis  acti :  '  The  club  was 
pointedly  attended;  it  was  too  good  a  thing  to  miss  being 
present  at.  They  kept  their  own  claret,  and  managed  all 
matters  as  to  living  perfectly  well.'  Originally,  the  fraternity 
were  contented  with  a  very  humble  room  \  but  in  time  they 
got  an  addition  built  to  the  house  for  their  accommodation, 
comprehending  one  good-sized  room  with  two  windows ;  in  one 
of  which  is  a  pane  containing  an  olive-dove,  in  the  other,  one 
containing  a  wheat-sheaf,  both  engraved  with  a  diamond. 
'This,'  continues  Mr  Johnston,  'was  the  doing  of  William 
Ramsay  [banker],  then  residing  at  Warriston — the  tongue  of 
the  trump  to  the  club.  Here  he  took  great  delight  to  drink 
claret  on  the  Saturdays,  though  he  had  such  a  paradise  near 
at  hand  to  retire  to ;  but  then  there  were  Jamie  Torry,  Jamie 
Dickson,  Gilbert  Laurie,  and  other  good  old  council  friends  with 
whom  to  crack  [that  is,  chat] ;  and  the  said  cracks  were  of  more 
value  in  this  dark,  unseemly  place,  than  the  enjoyments  of 
home.  I  never  pass  these  two  engraved  panes  of  glass  but  I 
venerate  them,  and  wonder  that,  in  the  course  of  fifty  years,  they 
have  not  been  destroyed,  either  from  drunkenness  within,  or 
from  misrule  without'  * 

*  One  of  the  panes  is  now  (1847)  destroyed,  the  other  cracked. 
L 


172  TRADITIONS   OF  EDINBURGH. 

Edinburgh  boasted  of  many  other  associations  of  the  like 
nature,  which  it  were  perhaps  best  merely  to  enumerate,  in  a 
tabular  form,  with  the  appropriate  joke  opposite  each,  as 

The  Dirty  Club No  gentleman  to  appear  in  clean  linen. 

The  Black  Wigs....... Members  wore  black  wigs. 

The  Odd  Fellows Members  wrote  their  names  upside  down. 

The  Bonnet  Lairds Members  wore  blue  bonnets. 

_,       _  T-.  (  Members  regarded  as  physicians,  and  so 

The  Doctors  of  Faculty  \       ,  ,  ,  .  , 

P  <      styled ;  wearing,  moreover,   gowns   and 

(      wigs. 

And  so  forth.  There  were  the  Caledonian  Club,  and  the 
Union  Club,  of  whose  foundation  history  speak eth  not.  There 
was  the  Wig  Club,  the  president  of  which  wore  a  wig  of  extra- 
ordinary materials,  which  had  belonged  to  the  Moray  family  for 
three  generations,  and  each  new  entrant  of  which  drank  to  the 
fraternity  in  a  quart  of  claret  without  pulling  bit.  The  Wigs 
usually  drank  twopenny  ale,  on  which  it  was  possible  to  get 
satisfactorily  drunk  for  a  groat ;  and  with  this  they  ate  souters' 
clods,*  a  coarse  lumpish  kind  of  loaf.  There  was  also  the 
Brownonian  System  Club,  which,  oddly  enough,  bore  no 
reference  to  the  license  which  that  system  had  given  for  a 
phlogistic  regimen — for  it  was  a  douce  citizenly  fraternity, 
venerating  ten  o'clock  as  a  sacred  principle — but  in  honour 
of  the  founder  of  that  system,  who  had  been  a  constituent 
member. 

The  Lawnmarket  Club  was  composed  chiefly  of  the 
woollen-traders  of  that  street,  a  set  of  whom  met  every  morning 
about  seven  o'clock,  and  walked  down  to  the  Post-office,  where 
they  made  themselves  acquainted  with  the  news  of  the  morning. 
After  a  plentiful  discussion  of  the  news,  they  adjourned  to  a 
public-house,  and  got  a  dram  of  brandy.     As  a  sort  of  ironical 

*  Souters*  clods,  and  other  forms  of  bread  fascinating  to  youngsters,  as  well  as  penny  pies 
of  high  reputation,  were  to  be  had  at  a  shop  which  all  old  Edinburgh  people  speak  of  with 
extreme  regard  and  affection — the  Baijen  Hole — situated  immediately  to  the  east  of 
Foi;rester's  Wynd,  and  opposite  to  the  Old  Tolbooth.  The  name— a  mystery  to  later 
generations — seems  to  bear  reference  to  the  Baijens  or  Baijen  Class,  a  term  bestowed  in 
former  days  upon  the  junior  students  in  the  college. 


THE  HORN  ORDER.  173 

and  self-inflicted  satire  upon  the  strength  of  their  potations,  they 
sometimes  called  themselves  the  Whey  Club.  They  were  always 
the  first  persons  in  the  town  to  have  a  thorough  knowledge  of 
the  foreign  news ;  and  on  Wednesday  mornings,  when  there  .was 
no  post  from  London,  it  was  their  wont  to  meet  as  usual,  and, 
in  the  absence  of  real  news,  amuse  themselves  by  the  invention 
of  what  was  imaginary ;  and  this  they  made  it  their  business  to 
circulate  among  their  uninitiated  acquaintances  in  the  course  of 
the  forenoon.  Any  such  unfounded  articles  of  intelligence,  on 
being  suspected  or  discovered,  were  usually  called  Lawnmarket 
Gazettes,  in  allusion  to  their  roguish  originators. 

In  the  year  1705,  when  the  Duke  of  Argyll  was  commissioner 
in  the  Scottish  parliament,  a  singular  kind  of  fashionable  club, 
or  coterie  of  ladies  and  gentlemen,  was  instituted,  chiefly  by  the 
exertions  of  the  Earl  of  Selkirk,  who  was  the  distinguished  beau 
of  that  age.  This  was  called  the  Horn  Order,  a  name  which, 
as  usual,  had  its  origin  in  the  whim  of  a  moment.  A  horn- 
spoon  having  been  used  at  some  merry-meeting,  it  occurred  to 
the  club,  which  was  then  in  embryo,  that  this  homely  implement 
would  be  a  good  badge  for  the  projected  society;  and  this  being 
proposed,  it  was  instantly  agreed,  by  all  the  party,  that  the" 
*  Order  of  the  Horn '  would  be  a  good  caricature  of  the  more 
ancient  and  better-sanctioned  honorary  dignities.  The  phrase 
was  adopted ;  and  the  members  of  the  Horn  Order  met  and 
caroused  for  many  a  day  under  this  strange  designation,  which, 
however,  the  common  people  believed  to  mean  more  than  met 
the  ear.  Indeed,  if  all  accounts  of  it  be  true,  it  must  have  been 
a  species  of  masquerade,  in  which  the  sexes  were  mixed,  and 
all  ranks  confounded 


174  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 


TAVERNS    OF   OLD   TIMES. 

When  the  worship  of  Bacchus  held  such  sway  in  our  city,  his 
pecuUar  temples — the  taverns — must,  one  would  suppose,  have 
been  places  of  some  importance.  And  so  they  were,  com- 
paratively speaking;  and  yet,  absolutely,  an  Edinburgh  tavern 
of  the  last  century  was  no  very  fine  or  inviting  place.  Usually, 
these  receptacles  were  situated  in  obscure  places — in  courts  or 
closes,  away  from  the  public  thoroughfares ;  and  often  they 
presented  such  narrow  and  stifling  accommodations,  as  might 
have  been  expected  to  repel,  rather  than  attract  visitors.  The 
truth  was,  however,  that  a  coarse  and  darksome  snugness  was 
courted  by  the  worshippers.  Large,  well-lighted  rooms,  with  a 
look-out  to  a  street,  would  not  have  suited  them.  But  allow 
them  to  dive  through  some  Erebean  alley,  into  a  cavern-like 
house,  and  there  settle  themselves  in  a  cell  unvisited  of  Phoebus, 
with  some  dingy  flamen  of  either  sex  to  act  as  minister,  and 
their  views  as  to  circumstances  and  properties  were  fulfilled. 

The  city  traditions  do  not  go  far  back  into  the  eighteenth 
century  with  respect  to  taverns ;  but  we  obtain  some  notion 
of  the  principal  houses  in  Queen  Anne's  time,  from  the  Latin 
lyrics  of  Dr  Pitcaim,  which  Ruddiman  published,  in  order  to 
prove  that  the  Italian  muse  had  not  become  extinct  in  our  land 
since  the  days  of  Buchanan.  In  an  address  To  Strangers,  the 
wit  tells  those  who  would  acquire  some  notion  of  our  national 
manners,  to  avoid  the  triple  church  of  St  Giles's  : 

*  Tres  ubi  Cyclopes  fanda  nefanda  boant' — 
where  three  horrible  monsters  bellow  forth  sacred  and  profane 
discourse — and  seek  the  requisite  knowledge  in  the  sanctuaries 
of  the  rosy  god,  whose  worship  is  conducted  by  night  and  by 
day.  '  At  one  time,'  says  he,  '  you  may  be  delighted  with  the 
bowls  of  Steil  of  the  Cross  Keys ;  then  other  heroes,  at  the  Ship, 
will  shew  you  the  huge  cups  which  belonged  to  mighty  bibbers 


TAVERNS  OF  OLD   TIMES.  1 75 

of  yore.  Or  you  may  seek  out  the  sweet-spoken  Katy  at 
BuchafiaTis,  or  Tennanfs  commodious  house,  where  scalloped 
oysters  will  be  brought  in  with  your  wine.  But  Hay  calls  us, 
than  whom  no  woman  of  milder  disposition  or  better-stored 
cellar  can  be  named  in  the  whole  town.  Now,  it  will  gratify 
you  to  make  your  way  into  the  Avemian  grottoes,  and  caves 
never  seen  of  the  sun ;  but  remember  to  make  friends  with  the 
dog  which  guards  the  threshold.  Straightway  Mistress  Anne 
will  bring  the  native  liquor.  Seek  the  innermost  rooms  and  the 
snug  seats :  these  know  the  sun,  at  least,  when  Anne  enters. 
What  souls  joying  in  the  Lethasan  flood  you  may  there  see ! 
what  frolics,  God  willing,  you  may  partake  of !  Mindless  of  all 
that  goes  on  in  the  outer  world,  joys  not  to  be  told  to  mortal  do 
they  there  imbibe.  But  perhaps  you  may  wish  by  and  by  to 
get  back  into  the  world — which  is  indeed  no  easy  matter.  I 
recommend  you,  when  about  to  descend,  to  take  with  you  a 
trusty  Achates  [a  caddy]  :  say  to  Anne,  "  Be  sure  you  give  him 
no  drink."  By  such  means  it  was  that  Castor  and  Pollux  were 
able  to  issue  forth  from  Pluto's  domain  into  the  heavenly  spaces. 
Here  you  may  be  both  merry  and  wise ;  but  beware  how  you 
toast  kings  and  their  French  retreats,'  &c.  The  sites  of  these 
merry  places  of  yore  are  not  handed  down  to  us ;  but  respecting 
another,  which  Pitcaim  shadows  forth  under  the  mysterious  - 
appellation  of  Greppa,  it  chances  that  we  possess  some  know- 
ledge. It  was  a  suite  of  dark  underground  apartments  in  the 
Parliament  Close,  opening  by  a  descending  stair  opposite  the 
oriel  of  St  Giles's,  in  a  mass  of  building  called  the  Pillars.  By 
the  wits  who  frequented  it,  it  was  called  the  Greping-qffice, 
because  one  could  only  make  way  through  its  dark  passages  by 
groping.  It  is  curious  to  see  how  Pitcaim  works  this  homely 
Scottish  idea  into  his  Sapphics,  talking,  for  example,  by  way  of 
a  good  case  of  bane  and  antidote,  of 

'  Fraudes  Egidii,  venena  Greppse.' 

A  venerable  person  has  given  me  an  anecdote  of  this  singular 
mixture  of  learning,  wit,  and  professional  skill,  in  connection 


176  ^         TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

with  the  Greping-office.  Here,  it  seems,  according  to  a  custom 
which  lasted  even  in  London  till  a  later  day,  the  clever  physician 
used  to  receive  visits  from  his  patients.  On  one  occasion,  a 
woman  from  the  country  called  to  consult  him  respecting  the 
health  of  her  daughter,  when  he  gave  a  shrewd  hygienic  advice 
in  a  pithy  metaphor  not  to  be  mentioned  to  ears  polite.  When, 
in  consequence  of  following  the  prescription,  the  young  woman 
had  recovered  her  health,  the  mother  came  back  to  the  Greping- 
office  to  thank  Dr  Pitcaim,  and  give  him  a  small  present. 
Seeing  him  in  precisely  the  same  place  and  circumstances,  and 
surrounded  by  the  same  companions  as  on  the  former  occasion, 
she  lingered  with  an  expression  of  surprise.  On  interrogation, 
she  said  she  had  only  one  thing  to  speer  at  him  (ask  after), 
and  she  hoped  he  would  not  be  angry. 

'  Oh  no,  my  good  woman.' 

'  Well,  sir,  have  you  been  sitting  here  ever  since  I  saw  you 
last?' 

According  to  the  same  authority,  small  claret  was  then  sold 
at  twentypence  the  Scottish  pint,  equivalent  to  tenpence  a 
bottle.  Pitcaim  once  or  twice  sent  his  servant  for  a  regale  of 
this  liquor  on  the  Sunday  forenoon,  and  suffered  the  disappoint- 
ment of  having  it  intercepted  by  the  seizers,  whose  duty  it  was 
to  make  capture  of  all  persons  found  abroad  in  time  of  service, 
and  appropriate  whatever  they  were  engaged  in  carrying  that 
smelled  of  the  common  enjoyments  of  life.  To  secure  his  claret 
for  the  future  from  this  interference,  the  wit  caused  the  wine  on 
one  occasion  to  be  drugged  in  such  a  manner  as  to  produce 
consequences  more  ludicrous  than  dangerous  to  those  drinking 
it.  The  triumph  he  thus  attained  over  a  power  which  there  was 
no  reaching  by  any  appeal  to  common  sense  or  justice,  must 
have  been  deeply  relished  in  the  Greping-office. 

Pitcairn  was  professedly  an  Episcopalian,  but  he  allowed 
himself  a  latitude  in  wit  which  his  contemporaries  found  some 
difficulty  in  teconciling  with  any  form  of  religion.  Among  the 
popular  charges  against  him  was,  that  he  did  not  believe  in  the 
existence  of  such  a  place  as  hell;  a  point  of  heterodoxy  likely 


TAVERNS  OF  OLD  TIMES.  177 

to  be  sadly  disrelished  in  Scotland.  Being  at  a  book-sale,  where 
a  copy  of  Philostratus  sold  at  a  good  price,  and  a  copy  of  the 
Bible  was  not  bidden  for,  Pitcaim  said  to  some  one  who 
remarked  the  circumstance  :  *  Not  at  all  wonderful ;  for  is  it  not 
written,  "  Verbum  Dei  manet  in  eternum  V '  For  this,  one  of  the 
Cyclops,  a  famous  Mr  Webster,  called  him  publicly  an  atheist. 
The  story  goes  on  to  state  that  Pitcaim  prosecuted  Webster  for 
defamation  in  consequence,  but  failed  in  the  action  from  the 
foUo^ving  circumstance :  The  defender,  much  puzzled  what  to 
do  in  the  case,  consulted  a  shrewd-witted  friend  of  his,  a  Mr 
Pettigrew,  minister  of  Govan,  near  Glasgow.  Pettigrew  came 
to  Edinburgh  to  endeavour  to  get  him  out  of  the  scrape. 
'  Strange,'  he  said,  '  since  he  has  caught  so  much  at  your 
mouth,  if  we  can  catch  nothing  at  his.'  Having  laid  his 
plan,  he  came  bustling  up  to  the  physician  at  the  Cross,  and 
tapping  him  on  the  shoulder,  said :  '  Are  you  Dr  Pitcaim  the 
atheist  ? ' 

The  doctor,  in  his  haste,  overlooking  the  latter  part  of  the 
query,  answered :  *  Yes.' 

'  Very  good,'  said  Pettigrew ;  '  I  take  you  all  to  witness  that 
he  has  confessed  it  himself.' 

Pitcaim,  seeing  how  he  had  been  outwitted,  said  bitterly  to 
the  minister  of  Govan,  whom  he  well  knew :  '  Oh,  Pettigrevt^, 
that  skull  of  yoiurs  is  as  deep  as  hell.' 

'Oh,  man,'  replied  Pettigrew,  'I'm  glad  to  find  you  have  come 
to  believe  there  is  a  hell.'  The  prosecutor's  counsel,  who  stood 
by  at  the  time,  recommended  a  compromise,  which  accordingly 
took  place. 

A  son  of  Pitcaim  was  minister  of  Dysart ;  a  very  good  kind 
of  man,  who  was  sometimes  consulted  in  a  medical  way  by  his 
parishioners.  He  seems  to  have  had  a  little  of  the  paternal 
humour,  if  we  may  judge  from  the  following  circumstance  :  A 
lady  came  to  ask  what  her  maid-servant  should  do  for  sore  or 
tender  eyes.  The  minister,  seeing  that  no  active  treatment 
could  be  recommended,  said  :  '  She  must  do  naething  wi'  them, 
but  just  rub  them  wi'  her  elbucks  (elbows).' 


178  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

Allan  Ramsay  mentions,  of  Edinburgh  taverns  in  his  day, 

*  Cumin's,  Don's,  and  Steil's,* 

as  places  where  one  may  be  as  well  served  as  at  The  Devil  in 
London. 

*  'Tis  strange,  though  true,  he  who  would  shun  all  evil, 
Cannot  do  better  than  go  to  the  Devil.' 

John  Maclaurin. 

One  is  disposed  to  pause  a  moment  on  Steil's  name,  as  it  is 
honourably  connected  with  the  history  of  music  in  Scotland. 
Being  a  zealous  lover  of  the  divine  science,  and  a  good  singer  of 
the  native  melodies,  he  had  rendered  his  house  a  favourite  resort 
of  all  who  possessed  a  similar  taste,  and  here  actually  was  formed 
(1728)  the  first  regular  society  of  amateur  musicians  kno^vn  in 
our  country.  It  numbered  seventy  persons,  and  met  once  a 
week,  the  usual  entertainments  consisting  in  playing  on  the 
harpsichord  and  violin  the  concertos  and  sonatas  of  Handel, 
then  newly  published.  Apparently,  however,  this  fjraternity  did 
not  long  continue  to  use  Steil's  house,  if  I  am  right  in  supposing 
his  retirement  from  business  as  announced  in  an  advertisement 
of  February  1729,  regarding  'a  sale  by  auction,  of  the  haill 
pictures,  prints,  music-books,  and  musical  instruments,  belonging 
to  Mr  John  Steill.' — Caledonian  Mercury. 

Coming  down  to  a  later  time — 17 60-1 7  70 — we  find  the 
tavern  in  highest  vogue  to  have  been  Fortune's,  in  the  house 
which  the  Earl  of  EgHntoune  had  once  occupied  in  the  Stamp- 
ofiice  Close.  The  gay  men  of  rank,  the  scholarly  and  philo- 
sophical, the  common  citizens,  all  flocked  hither ;  and  the  royal 
commissioner  for  the  General  Assembly  held  his  levees  here, 
and  hence  proceeded  to  church  with  his  cortege,  then  addition- 
ally splendid  from  having  ladies  walking  in  it  in  their  court 
dresses,  as  well  as  gentlemen.  Perhaps  the  most  remarkable 
set  of  men  who  met  here  was  the  Poker  Club,  consisting  of 
Hume,  Robertson,  Blair,  Fergusson,  and  many  others  of  that 
brilliant  galaxy,  but  whose  potations  were,  comparatively,  of  a 
moderate  kind. 


Douglas's  tavern.  179 

The  Star  and  Garter,  in  Writers'  Court,  kept  by  one  Clerihugh 
(the  CleriJmgKs  alluded  to  in  Guy  Mannering),  was  another 
tavern  of  good  consideration,  the  favourite  haunt  of  the  magis- 
trates and  Town-council,  who  in  those  days  mixed  much  more 
of  private  enjoyments  with  public  duties  than  would  now  be 
considered  fitting.  Here  the  Rev.  Dr  Webster  used  to  meet 
them  at  dinner,  in  order  to  give  them  the  benefit  of  his  extensive 
knowledge  and  great  powers  of  calculation,  when  they  were 
scheming  out  the  New  Town. 

A  favourite  house  for  many  of  the  last  years  of  the  bygone 
century  was  Douglas's,  in  the  Anchor  Close,  near  the  Cross,  a 
good  specimen  of  those  profound  retreats  which  have  been 
spoken  of  as  valued  in  the  inverse  ratio  of  the  amount  of  day- 
light which  visited  them.  You  went  a  few  yards  down  the 
dark,  narrow  alley,  passing  on  the  left  hand  the  entry  to  a  scale 
stair,  decorated  with  'the  lord  is  only  my  svport;'  then 
passed  another  door,  bearing  the  still  more  antique  legend :  '  o 
LORD,  IN  THE  IS  AL  MY  TRAiST  j'  immediately  beyond,  under 
an  architrave  calling  out  '  be  mercifvl  to  me,'  you  entered  the 
hospitable  mansion  of  Dawney  Douglas,  the  scene  of  the  daily 
and  nightly  orgies  of  the  Pleydells  and  Fairfords,  the  Hays, 
Erskines,  and  Crosbies  of  the  time  of  our  fathers.  Alas  !  hov/ 
fallen  off  is  now  that  temple  of  Momus  and  the  Bacchanals  ! 
You  find  it  divided  into  a  multitude  of  small  lodgings,  where, 
instead  of  the  merry  party,  vociferous  with  toasts  and  catches, 
you  are  most  likely  to  be  struck  by  the  spectacle  of  some  poor 
lone  female,  pining  under  a  parochial  allowance,  or  a  poverty- 
struck  family  group,  one-half  of  whom  are  disposed  on  sick-beds 
of  straw  mingled  with  rags — the  terrible  exponents  of  our 
peculiar  phasis  of  civilisation. 

The  frequenter  of  Douglas's,  after  ascending  a  few  steps, 
found  himself  in  a  pretty  large  kitchen — a  dark,  fiery  Pande- 
monium, through  which  numerous  ineffable  ministers  of  flame 
were  continually  flying  about,  while  beside  the  door  sat  the 
landlady,  a  large  fat  woman,  in  a  towering  head-dress  and  large- 
flowered  silk  gown,  who  bowed  to  every  one  passing.     Most 


l8o  'traditions   of   EDINBURGH. 

likely,  on  emerging  from  this  igneous  region,  the  party  would 
fall  into  the  hands  of  Dawney  himself,  and  so  be  conducted  to 
an  apartment.  A  perfect  contrast  was  he  to  his  wife :  a  thin, 
weak,  submissive  man,  who  spoke  in  a  whisper,  never  but  in  the 
way  of  answer,  and  then,  if  possible,  only  in  monosyllables.  He 
had  a  habit  of  using  the  word  '  quietly '  very  frequently,  without 
much  regard  to  its  being  appropriate  to  the  sense  3  and  it  is  told 
that  he  one  day  made  the  remark  that '  the  castle  had  been 
firing  to-day — quietly ;''  which,  it  may  well  be  believed,  was  not 
soon  forgotten  by  his  customers.  Another  trait  of  Dawney  was, 
that  some  one  lent  him  a  volume  of  Clarendon's  history  to  read, 
and  daily  frequenting  the  room  where  it  lay,  used  regularly,  for 
some  time,  to  put  back  the  reader's  mark  to  the  same  place ; 
whereupon,  being  by  and  by  asked  how  he  liked  the  book, 
Dawney  answered  :  '  Oh,  very  weel ;  but  dinna  ye  think  it 's  gay 
mickle  the  same  thing  o'er  again?'  The  house  was  noted  for 
suppers  of  tripe,  rizzared  haddocks,  mince  coUops,  and  hashes, 
which  never  cost  more  than  sixpence  a  head.  On  charges  of 
this  moderate  kind  the  honest  couple  grew  extremely  rich  before 
they  died. 

The  principal  room  in  this  house  Was  a  handsome  one  of 
good  size,  having  a  separate  access  by  the  second  of  the  entries 
which  have  been  described,  and  only  used  for  large  companies, 
or  for  guests  of  the  first  importance.  It  was  called  the  Crown 
Room,  or  the  Crown — so  did  the  guests  find  it  distinguished  on 
the  tops  of  their  bills — and  this  name  it  was  said  to  have 
acquired  in  consequence  of  its  having  once  been  used  by  Queen 
Mary  as  a  council-room,  on  which  occasions  the  emblem  of 
sovereignty  was  disposed  in  a  niche  in  the  wall,  still  existing. 
How  the  queen  should  have  had  any  occasion  to  hold  councils 
in  this  place,  tradition  does  not  undertake  to  explain ;  but 
assuredly,  when  we  consider  the  nature  of  all  public  accommo- 
dations in  that  time,  we  cannot  say  there  is  any  decided  improb- 
ability in  the  matter.  The  house  appears  of  sufficient  age  for 
the  hypothesis.  Perhaps  we  catch  a  hint  on  the  general  possi- 
bility from  a  very  ancient  house  farther  down  the  close,  of  whose 


Douglas's  tavern.  i8i 

original  purpose  or  OAvners  we  know  nothing,  but  which,  is 
adumbrated  by  this  legend : 

ANGVSTA  AD  VSVM  AVGVSTA[m] 
W  F  B  G 

The  Crown  Room,  however,  is  elegant  enough  to  have  graced 
even  the  presence  of  Queen  Mary,  so  that  she  only  had  not  had 
to  reach  it  by  the  Anchor  Close.  It  is  handsomely  panelled, 
with  a  decorated  fireplace,  and  two  tall  windows  towards  the 
alley.  At  present,  this  supposed  seat  of  royal  councils,  and 
certain  seat  of  the  social  enjoyments  of  many  men  of  noted 
talents,  forms  a  back-shop  to  Mr  Ford,  grocer.  High  Street, 
and,  all  dingy  and  out  of  countenance,  serves  only  to  store 
hams,  firkins  of  butter,  packages  of  groceries,  and  bundles  of 
dried  cod.* 

The  gentle  Dawney  had  an  old  Gaelic  song  called  Crochallan, 
which  he  occasionally  sung  to  his  customers.  This  led  to  the 
establishment  of  a  club  at  his  house,  which,  with  a  reference  to 
the  militia  regiments  then  raising,  was  called  the  Crochallan 
Corps,  or  Crochallan  Fencibles,  and  to  which  belonged,  amongst 
other  men  of  original  character  and  talent,  the  well-known 
William  Smellie,  author  of  the  Philosophy  j)f  Natural  History. 
Each  member  bore  a  military  title,  and  some  were  endowed  with 
ideal  offices  of  a  ludicrous  character :  for  example,  a  lately 
surviving  associate  had  been  depute-hangman  to  the  corps. 
Individuals  committing  a  fault  were  subjected  to  a  mock  trial, 
in  which  such  members  as  were  barristers  could  display  their 
forensic  talents  to  the  infinite  amusement  of  the  brethren.  Much 
mirth  and  not  a  little  horse-play  prevailed.  Smellie,  while 
engaged  professionally  in  printing  the  Edinburgh  edition  of  the 
poems  of  Burns,  introduced  that  genius  to  the  Crochallans, 
when  a  scene  of  rough  banter  took  place  between  him  and 
certain  privileged  old  hands,  and  the  bard  declared  at  the 

*  Since  this  was  written,  the  whole  group  of  buildings  has  been  taken  down,  and  new 
ones  substituted  (1868). 


l82  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

conclusion  that  he  had  '  never  been  so  abominably  thrashed  in 
his  life.'  There  was  one  predominant  wit,  Willie  Dunbar  by 
name,  of  whom  the  poet  has  left  a  characteristic  picture  : 

*  As  I  came  by  Crochallan, 

I  cannily  keekit  ben — 
Rattling  roaring  Willie 

Was  sitting  at  yon  board  en' — 
Sitting  at  yon  board  en', 

Amang  gude  companie ; 
Rattling  roaring  Willie, 

Ye  're  welcome  hame  to  me  ! ' 

He  has  also  described  Smellie  as  coming  to  Crochallan  mth  his 
old  cocked  hat,  gray  surtout,  and  beard  rising  in  its  might : 

'  Yet  though  his  caustic  wit  was  biting,  rude. 
His  heart  was  warm,  benevolent,  and  good.' 

The  printing-office  of  this  strange  genius  being  at  the  bottom  of 
the  close,  the  transition  from  the  correction  of  proofs  to  the 
roaring  scenes  at  Crochallan  must  have  been  sufficiently  easy  for 
Bums. 

I  am  indebted  to  a  privately  printed  memoir  on  the  Anchor 
Close  for  the  following  anecdote  of  Crochallan.  'A  comical 
gentleman,  one  of  the  members  of  the  corps  [old  Williamson  of 
Cardrona,  in  Peeblesshire],  got  rather  tipsy  one  evening  after  a 
severe  field-day.  When  he  came  to  the  head  of  the  Anchor 
Close,  it  occurred  to  him  that  it  was  necessary  that  he  should 
take  possession  of  the  castle.  He  accordingly  set  off  for  this 
purpose.  When  he  got  to  the  outer  gate,  he  demanded  imme- 
diate possession  of  the  garrison,  to  which  he  said  he  was  entitled. 
The  sentinel,  for  a  considerable  time,  laughed  at  him;  he, 
however,  became  so  extremely  clamorous,  that  the  man  found  it 
necessary  to  apprise  the  commanding-officer,  who  immediately 
came  down  to  inquire  into  the  meaning  of  such  impertinent 
conduct.  H-e  at  once  recognised  his  friend  Cardrona,  whom  he 
had  left  at  the  festive  board  of  the  Crochallan  Corps  only  a  few 
hours  before.  Accordingly,  humouring  him  in  the  conceit,  he 
said :  '  Certainly  you  have  every  right  to  the  command  of  this 


JOHN   DOWIE'S   tavern.  1 83 

garrison ;  if  you  please,  I  will  conduct  you  to  your  proper 
apartment."  He  accordingly  conveyed  him  to  a  bedroom  in 
his  house.  Cardrona  took  formal  possession  of  the  place,  and 
immediately  afterwards  went  to  bed.  His  feelings  were  inde- 
scribable when  he  looked  out  of  his  bedroom  window  next 
morning,  and  found  himself  surrounded  with  soldiers  and  great 
guns.  Some  time  afterwards,  this  story  came  to  the  ears  of  the 
Crochallans;  and  Cardrona  said  he  never  afterwards  had  the  life 
of  a  dog,  so  much  did  they  tease  and  harass  him  about  his 
strange  adventure.' 

There  is  a  story  connected  with  the  air  and  song  of  Crochallan 
which  will  tell  strangely  after  these  anecdotes.  The  title  is 
properly  Cro  Chalien — that  is,  Colin's  Cattle.  According  to 
Highland  tradition,  Colin's  wife,  dying  at  an  early  age,  came 
back,  some  months  after  she  had  been  buried,  and  was  seen 
occasionally  in  the  evenings  milking  her  cow  as  formerly,  and 
singing  this  plaintive  air.  It  is  curious  thus  to  find  Highland 
superstition  associated  with  a  snug  tavern  in  the  Anchor  Close, 
and  the  convivialities  of  such  men  as  Burns  and  Smellie. 

John  Dowie's,  in  Liberton's  Wynd,  a  still  more  perfect 
specimen  of  those  taverns  which  Pitcaim  eulogises — 

'  Antraque  Cocyto  penfe  propinqua' — 

enjoyed  the  highest  celebrity  during  the  latter  years  of  the  past, 
and  early  years  of  the  present  century.  A  great  portion  of  this 
house  was  literally  without  light,  consisting  of  a  series  of 
windowless  chambers,  decreasing  in  size  till  the  last  was  a  mere 
box,  of  irregular  oblong  figure,  jocularly,  but  not  inappropriately, 
designated  the  Coffin.  Besides  these,  there  were  but  two  rooms 
possessing  light,  and  as  that  came  from  a  deep,  naiTow  alley,  it 
was  light  little  more  than  in  name.  Hither,  nevertheless,  did 
many  of  the  Parliament  House  men  come  daily  for  their 
meridian.  Here  nightly  assembled  companies  of  cits,  as  well  as 
of  men  of  wit  and  of  fashion,  to  spend  hours  in  what  may,  by 
comparison,  be  described  as  gentle  conviviality.  The  place  is 
said  to  have  been  a  howfif  of  Fergusson  and  Burns  in  succession. 


184  TRADITIONS   OF  EDINBURGH. 

Christopher  North  somewhere  alludes  to  meetings  of  his  own 
with  Tom  Campbell  in  that  couthy  mansion.  David  Herd,  the 
editor  of  the  Scottish  songs,  Mr  Cumming  of  the  Lyon  Office, 
and  George  Paton  the  antiquary,  were  regular  customers,  each 
seldom  allowing  a  night  to  pass  without  a  symposium  at  Johnie 
Dowie's.  Now,  these  men  are  all  gone ;  their  very  habits  are 
becoming  matters  of  history ;  while,  as  for  their  evening  haunt, 
the  place  which  knew  it  once  knows  it  no  more,  the  new  access 
to  the  Lawnmarket,  by  George  IV.  Bridge,  passing  over  the 
area  where  it  stood. 

Johnie  Dowie^s  was  chiefly  celebrated  for  ale — Younger' s 
Edinburgh  ale — a  potent  fluid,  which  almost  glued  the  lips  of 
the  drinker  together,  and  of  which  few,  therefore,  could  despatch 
more  than  a  bottle.  John,  a  sleek,  quiet-looking  man,  in  a  last- 
century  style  of  attire,  always  brought  in  the  liquor  himself, 
decanted  it  carefully,  drank  a  glass  to  the  healths  of  the  com- 
pany, and  then  retired.  His  neat,  careful  management  of  the 
bottle  must  have  entirely  met  the  views  of  old  William  Coke, 
the  Leith  bookseller,  of  whom  it  is  told  that,  if  he  saw  a  green- 
horn of  a  waiter  acting  in  a  different  manner,  he  would  rush 
indignantly  up  to  him,  take  the  ale  out  of  his  hands,  caress  it 
tenderly,  as  if  to  soothe  and  put  it  to  rights  again,  and  then 
proceed  to  the  business  of  decanting  it  himself,  saying :  '  You 
rascal,  is  that  the  way  you  attend  to  your  business?  Sirrah,  you 
ought  to  handle  a  bottle  of  ale  as  you  would  do  a  new-bom  babe ! ' 

Dowiis  was  also  famed  for  its  ^etits  soujbers,  as  one  of  its 
customers  has  recorded  : 

'  'Deed,  gif  ye  please, 
Ye  may  get  a  bit  toasted  cheese, 
A  crumb  o'  tripe,  ham,  dish  o'  peas, 

The  season  fitting ; 
An  egg,  or,  cauler  frae  the  seas, 
A  fleuTc  or  whiting.' 

When  the  reckoning  came  to  be  paid,  John's  duty  usually  con- 
sisted simply  in  counting  the  empty  bottles  which  stood  on  a 
little  shelf  where  he  had  placed  them  above  the  heads  of  his 


MRS    FLOCKHARt's   TAVERN.  1 85 

customers,  and  multiplying  these  by  the  price  of  the  liquor — 
usually  threepence.  Studious  of  decency,  he  was  rigorous  as  to 
hours,  and,  when  pressed  for  additional  supplies  of  liquor  at  a 
particular  time,  would  say:  'No,  no,  gentlemen;  it's  past  twelve 
o'clock,  and  time  to  go  home.' 

Of  John's  conscientiousness  as  to  money-matters,  there  is 
some  illustration  in  the  following  otherwise  trivial  anecdote. 
David  Herd,  being  one  night  prevented  by  slight  indisposition 
from  joining  in  the  malt  potations  of  his  friends,  called  for  first 
one  and  then  another  glass  of  spirits,  which  he  dissolved,  more 
Scotico,  in  warm  water  and  sugar.  When  the  reckoning  came 
to  be  paid,  the  antiquary  was  surprised  to  find  the  second  glass 
charged  a  fraction  higher  than  the  first — as  if  John  had  been 
resolved  to  impose  a  tax  upon  excess.  On  inquiring  the  reason, 
however,  honest  John  explained  it  thus :  '  Whe,  sir,  ye  see,  the 
first  glass  was  out  o'  the  auld  barrel,  and  the  second  was  out  o' 
the  new;  and  as  the  whisky  in  the  new  barrel  cost  me  mair  than 
the  other,  whe,  sir,  I  've  just  charged  a  wee  mair  for 't.'  An 
ordinary  host  would  have  doubtless  equalised  the  price,  by 
raising  that  of  the  first  glass  to  a  level  with  the  second.  It  is 
gratifying,  but,  after  this  anecdote,  not  surprising,  that  John 
eventually  retired  with  a  fortune  said  to  have  amounted  to  six 
thousand  pounds.  He  had  a  son  in  the  army,  who  attained  the 
rank  of  major,  and  was  a  respectable  officer. 

We  get  an  idea  of  a  class  of  taverns,  humbler  in  their  appoint- 
ments, but  equally  comfortable  perhaps  in  their  entertainments, 
from  the  description  which  has  been  preserved  of  Mrs  Flockharfs 
— otherwise  Lucky  Fykie's — in  the  Potterrow.  This  was  a 
remarkably  small,  as  well  as  obscure  mansion,  bearing  externally 
the  appearance  of  a  huckstry  shop.  The  lady  was  a  neat,  little, 
thin,  elderly  woman,  usually  habited  in  a  plain  striped  blue 
gown,  and  apron  of  the  same  stuff,  with  a  black  ribbon  round 
her  head,  and  lappets  tied  under  her  chin.  She  was  far  from 
being  poor  in  circumstances,  as  her  husband,  the  umquhile 
John  Flucker,  or  Flockhart,  had  left  her  some  ready  money, 
together  with  his  whole  stock-in-trade,  consisting  of  a  multi- 


i86 


TRADITIONS    OF   EDINBURGH. 


farious  variety  of  articles — as  ropes,  tea,  sugar,  whip-shafts, 
porter,  ale,  beer,  yellow  sand,  cabn-stane,  herrings,  nails,  cotton- 
wicks,  stationery,  thread,  needles,  tapes,  potatoes,  lollipops, 
onions,  matches,  &c.,  constituting  her  a  very  respectable 
merchant,  as  the  phrase  was  understood  in  Scotland.  On  Sundays, 
too,  Mrs  Flockhart's  little  visage  might  have  been  seen  in  a 
front-gallery  seat  in  Mr  Pattieson's  chapel  in  the  Potterrow, 
Her  abode,  situated  opposite  to  Chalmers's  Entry  in  that  sub- 
urban thoroughfare,  was  a  square  of  about  fifteen  feet  each  way, 
divided  agreeably  to  the  following  diagram  : 


DWELLING-HOUSE. 

SHOP. 

o 

A  Screen. 

c 

a 

a 

Closet.                           HOTEL. 



'   1' 

0 

o 
o 

1 

1                               1 

...j 

1       Uoor.       1 

Potterrow. 

\ 

Each  'forenoon  was  this  place,  or  at  least  all  in  front  of  the 
screen,  put  into  the  neatest  order;  at  the  same  time  three 
bottles,  severally  containing  brandy,  rum,  and  whisky,  were 
placed  on  a  bunker  seat  in  the  window  of  the  '  hotel,'  flanked, 
by  a  few  glasses,  and  a  salver  of  gingerbread  biscuits.  About 
noon,  any  one  watching  the  place  from  an  opposite  mndow, 
would  haveVobserved  an  elderly  gentleman  entering  the  humble 
shop,  where  \he  saluted  the  lady  with  a  'Hoo  d'ye  do,  mem?' 
and  then  passVd  into  the  side  space,  to  indulge  himself  with  a 


THE  WHITE   HORSE   INN.  1 87 

glass  from  one  or  other  of  the  bottles.  After  him  came  another, 
who  went  through  the  same  ceremonial — after  him  another 
again ;  and  so  on.  Strange  to  say,  these  were  men  of  importance 
in  society — some  of  them  la-\vyers  in  good  employment,  some 
bankers,  and  so  forth,  and  all  of  them  inhabitants  of  good  houses 
in  George  Square.  It  was  in  passing  to  or  from  forenoon 
business  in  town,  that  they  thus  regaled  themselves.  On  special 
occasions,  Lucky  could  furnish  forth  a  soss — that  is,  stew — ^which 
the  votary  might  partake  of  upon  a  clean  napkin  in  the  closet, 
a  place  which  only  admitted  of  one  chair  being  placed  in  it. 
Such  were  amongst  the  habits  of  the  fathers  of  some  of  our 
present  (1824)  most  distinguished  citizens  ! 

This  may  be  the  proper  place  for  introducing  the  few  notices 
which  I  have  collected  respecting  Edinburgh  inns  of  a  past 
date. 

The  oldest  house  known  to  have  been  used  in  the  character 
of  an  inn,  is  one  situated  in  what  is  called  Davidson's  or  the 
White  Horse  Close,  at  the  bottom  of  the  Canongate.  A  sort  of 
port-cochere  gives  access  to  a  court  having  mean  buildings  on 
either  hand,  but,  facing  us,  a  goodly  structure  of  antique  fashion, 
having  two  outside  stairs  curiously  arranged,  and  the  whole 
reminding  us  much  of  certain  houses  still  numerous  in  the 
Netherlands.  A  date,  deficient  in  the  decimal  figure  (16-3), 
gives  us  assurance  of  the  seventeenth  century,  and,  judging  from 
the  style  of  the  building,  I  would  say  the  house  belongs  to  an 
early  portion  of  that  age.  The  whole  of  the  ground-floor,  acces- 
sible from  the  street  called  North  Back  of  Canongate,  has  been 
used  as  stables,  thus  reminding  us  of  the  absence  of  nicety  in  a 
former  age,  when  human  beings  were  content  to  sit  with  only  a 
wooden  floor  between  themselves  and  their  horses. 

This  house,  supposed  to  have  been  styled  The  White  Horse 
Inn  or  White  Horse  Stables  (for  the  latter  was  the  more  common 
word),  would  be  conveniently  situated  for  persons  travelling  to, 
or  arriving  from  London,  as  it  is  close  to  the  ancient  exit  of  the 
town  in  that  direction.  The  adjacent  Water-gate  took  its  name 
from  a  horse-pond,  which  probably  was  an  appendage  of  this 

M 


* 
l88  TRADITIONS  OF  EDINBURGH. 

mansion.  The  manner  of  procedure  for  a  gentleman  going  to 
London  in  the  days  of  the  White  Horse,  was  to  come  booted  to 
this  house  with  saddle-bags,  and  here  engage  and  mount  a 
suitable  roadster,  "which  was  to  serve  all  the  way.  In  1639, 
when  Charles  'I.  had  made  his  first  pacification  -with  the 
Covenanters,  and  had  come  temporarily  to  Berwick,  he  sent 
messages  to  the  chief  lords  of  that  party,  desiring  some  conver- 
sation with  them.  They  were  unsuspectingly  mounting  their 
horses  at  this  inn,  in  order  to  ride  to  Berwick,  when  a  mob, 
taught  by  the  clergy  to  suspect  that  the  king  wished  only  to  wile 
over  the  nobles  to  his  side,  came  and  forcibly  prevented  them 
from  commencing  their  designed  journey.  Montrose  alone 
broke  through  this  restraint;  and  assuredly  the  result  in  his 
instance  was  such  as  to  give  some  countenance  to  the  suspicion, 
as  thenceforward  he  was  a  royalist  in  his  heart. 

The  White  Horse  has  ceased  to  be  an  inn  from  a  time  which 
no  '  oldest  inhabitant '  of  my  era  could  pretend  to  have  any 
recollection  of.  The  only  remaining  fact  of  interest  connected 
with  it,  is  one  concerning  Dr  Alexander  Rose,  the  last  Bishop 
of  Edinburgh,  and  the  last  survivor  of  the  established  Epis- 
copacy of  Scotland.  Bishop  Keith,  who  had  been  one  of  his 
presbyters,  and  describes  him  as  a  sweet-natured  man,  of  a 
venerable  aspect,  states  that  he  died  March  20,  1720,  'in  his 
own  sister's  house  in  the  Canongate,  in  which  street  he  also 
lived.'  Tradition  points  to  the  floor  immediately  above  the 
port-cochbre  by  which  the  stable-yard  is  entered  from  the  street, 
as  the  humble  mansion  in  which  the  bishop  breathed  his  last. 
I  know  at  least  one  person  who  never  goes  past  the  place 
without  an  emotion  of  respect,  remembering  the  self-abandoning 
devotion  of  the  Scottish  prelates  to  their  engagements  at  the 

Revolution : 

'  Amongst  the  faithless,  faithful  only  found.' 

To  the  elegant  accommodations  of  the  best  New-town 
establishments  of  the  present  day,  the  inns  of  the  last 
century  present  a  contrast  which  it  is  difficult  by  the  greatest 
stretch  of  imagination  to  realise.      For  the  west  road,  there 


Ramsay's  tavern.  v      189 

was  the  White  Hart  in  the  Grassmarketj  for  the  east,  the 
White  Horse  Inn  in  Boyd's  Close,  Canongate;  for  the  south, 
and  partly  also  the  east,  Peter  Ramsay's,  at  the  bottom  of 
St  Mary's  Wynd.  Amot,  writing  in  1779,  describes  them  as 
'  mean  buildings ;  their  apartments  dirty  and  dismal ;  and  if  the 
waiters  happen  to  be  out  of  the  way,  a  stranger  will  perhaps  be 
shocked  with  the  novelty  of  being  shewn  into  a  room  by  a  dirty 
sunburnt  wench,  without  shoes  or  stockings.'  The  fact  is, 
however,  these  houses  were  mainly  used  as  places  for  keeping 
horses.  Guests,  unless  of  a  very  temporary  character,  were 
usually  relegated  to  lodging-houses  j  of  which  there  were  several 
on  a  considerable  scale — as  Mrs  Thomson's  at  the  Cross,  who 
advertises,  in  1754,  that  persons  not  bringing  'their  silver  plate, 
tea  china,  table  china,  and  tea  linen,  can  be  served  in  them  all ;' 
also  in  wines  and  spirits ;  likewise  that  persons  boarding  with 
her  'may  expect  everything  in  a  very  genteel  manner.'  But 
hear  the  unflattering  Amot  on  these  houses,  '  He  [the  stranger] 
is  probably  conducted  to  the  third  or  fourth  floor,  up  dark  and 
dirty  stairs,  and  there  shewn  into   apartments  meanly  fitted 

up,  and  poorly  furnished In   Edinburgh,   letting  of 

lodgings  is  a  business  by  itself,  and  thereby  the  prices  are  very 
extravagant ;  and  every  article  of  furniture,  far  from  wearing  the 
appearance  of  having  been  purchased  for  a  happy  owner,  seems 
to  be  scraped  together  with  a  penurious  hand,  to  pass  muster 
before  a  stranger  who  will  never  wish  to  return  ! ' 

Ramsay's  was  almost  solely  a  place  of  stables.  General 
Paoli,  on  visiting  Edinburgh  in  177 1,  came  to  this  house,  but; 
was  immediately  taken  home  by  his  friend  Boswell  to  James's 
Court,  where  he  lived  during  his  stay  in  our  city;  his  companion, 
the  Polish  ambassador,  being  accommodated  with  a  bed  by  Dr 
John  Gregory,  in  a  neighbouring  floor.  An  old  gentleman  of  my 
acquaintance  used  to  talk  of  having  seen  the  Duke  of  Hamilton 
one  day  lounging  in  front  of  Ramsay's  inn,  occasionally  chatting . 
with  any  gay  or  noble  friend  who  passed.  To  one  knowing 
the  Edinburgh  of  the  present  day,  nothing  could  seem  more 
extravagant  than  the  idea  of  such  company  at  such  places.     I 


\ 

\ 


190  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

nevertheless  find  Ramsay,  in  1776,  advertising  that,  exclusive 
of  some  part  of  his  premises  recently  offered  for  sale,  he  is 
'possessed  of  a  good  house  of  entertainment,  good  stables  for 
above  one  hundred  horses,  and  sheds  for  above  twenty  carriages.* 
He  retired  from  business  about  1790,  with  ;!^i  0,000. 

The  modem  White  Horse  was  a  place  of  larger  and  some- 
what better  accommodations,  though  still  far  from  an  equality 
with  even  the  second-rate  houses  of  the  present  day.  Here 
also  the  rooms  were  directly  over  the  stables. 

It  was  almost  a  matter  of  course  that  Dr  Johnson,  on  arriving 
in  Edinburgh,  August  17,  1773,  should  have  come  to  the  White 
Horse,  which  was  then  kept  by  a  person  of  the  name  of  Boyd. 
His  note  to  Boswell,  informing  him  of  this  fact,  was  as 
follows : 

*  Saturday  night. 

'Mr  Johnson  sends  his  compliments  to  Mr  Boswell,  being  just  arrived  at 
Boyd's.' 

When  Boswell  came,  he  found  his  illustrious  friend  in  a  violent 
passion  at  the  waiter,  for  having  sweetened  his  lemonade  with- 
out the  ceremony  of  a  pair  of  sugar-tongs.  Mr  William  Scott, 
afterwards  Lord  Stowell,  accompanied  Johnson  on  this  occasion; 
and  he  informs  us,  in  a  note  to  Croker's  edition  of  Boswell, 
that  when  he  heard  the  mistress  of  the  house  styled,  in  Scotch 
fashion,  Lticky,  which  he  did  not  then  understand,  he  thought 
she  should  rather  have  been  styled  Unlucky,  for  the  doctor 
seemed  as  if  he  would  destroy  the  house.* 

James  Boyd,  the  keeper  of  this  inn,  was  addicted  to  horse- 
racing,  and  his  victories  on  the  turf,  or  rather  on  Leith  sands, 
p.re  frequently  chronicled  in  the  journals  of  that  day.  It  is  said 
that  he  was  at  one  time  on  the  brink  of  ruin,  when  he  was 
saved  by  a  lucky  run  with  a  white  horse,  which,  in  gratitude,  he 
kept  idle  all  the  rest  of  its  days,  besides  setting  up  its  portrait 
as  his  sign.  He  eventually  retired  from  this  '  dirty  and  dismal ' 
inn,  with  a  fortune   of  several   thousand   pounds;  and,  as   a 

•  A  punfling  friend,  remarking  on  the  old  Scottish  practice  of  stj'ling  elderly  landladies 
by  the  term  Xwc/^J',  said :  '  Why  not  ? — Felix  qui  ^oi ' 


THE  CROSS.  191 

curious  note  upon  the  impression  which  its  slovenliness  con- 
veyed to  Dr  Johnson,  it  may  be  stated  as  a  fact,  well  authen- 
ticated, that  at  the  time  of  his  giving  up  the  house,  he  possessed 
napery  to  the  value  of  five  hundred  pounds  ! 

A  large  room  in  the  White  Horse  was  the  frequent  scene  of 
the  marriages  of  runaway  English  couples,  at  a  time  when  these 
irregularities  were  permitted  in  Edinburgh.  On  one  of  the 
windows  were  scratched  the  words  : 

'JEREMIAH  AND   SARAH   BENTHAM,    1 768.' 

Could  this  be  the  distinguished  jurist  and  codificator,  on  a 
journey  to  Scotland  in  company  with  a  female  relation?* 


THE   CROSS— CADDIES. 

The  Cross,  a  handsome  octagonal  building  in  the  High  Street, 
surmounted  by  a  pillar  bearing  the  Scottish  unicorn,  was  the 
great  centre  of  gossip  in  former  days.  The  principal  coffee- 
houses and  booksellers'  shops  were  close  to  this  spot.  The 
chief  merchants,  the  leading  official  persons,  the  men  of  learning 

*  The  following  curious  advertisement,  connected  with  an  inn  in  the  Canongate,  appeared 
in  the  Edinhnrgh  Evening  Conrant  for  July  i,  1754.  The  advertisement  is  surmounted 
by  a  wood-cut  representing  the  stage-coach — a  towering  vehicle,  protruding  at  top — the 
coachman  a  stiif-looking,  antique  little  figure,  who  holds  the  reins  with  both  hands,  as 
if  he  were  afraid  of  the  horses  running  away — a  long  whip  streaming  over  his  head,  and 
over  the  top  of  the  coach,  and  falling  down  behind — six  horses,  like  starved  rats  in  appear- 
ance— a  postilion  upon  one  of  the  leaders,  with  a  whip. 

'The  Edinburgh  Stage-Coach,  for  the  better  accommodation  of  Passengers,  will  be 
altered  to  a  new  genteel  two-end  Glass  Machine,  hung  on  Steel  Springs,  exceeding  light 
and  easy,  to  go  in  ten  days  in  summer  and  twelve  in  winter ;  to  set  out  the  first  Tuesday  in 
March,  and  continue  it  from  Rosea  Eastgate's,  the  Coach  and  Horses  in  Dean  Street, 
Soho,  London,  and  from  John  Somerville's  in  the  Canongate,  Edinburgh,  every  other 
Tuesday,  and  meet  at  Burrow-bridge  on  Saturday  night,  and  set  out  from  thence  on 
Monday  morning,  and  get  to  London  and  Edinburgh  on  Friday.  In  the  winter  to  set  out 
from  London  and  Edinburgh  every  other  [alternate]  Monday  morning,  and  to  go  to  Burrow- 
bridge  on  Saturday  night ;  and  to  set  out  from  thence  on  Monday  morning,  and  get  to 
London  and  Edinburgh  on  Saturday  night.  Passengers  to  pay  as  usual.  Performed,  if 
God  permits,  by  your  dutiful  servant,  HosEA  Eastgate. 

'  Care  is  taken  of  small  parcels  according  to  their  value.' 


192  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

and  talents,  the  laird,  the  noble,  the  clergyman,  were  constantly 
clustering  hereabouts  during  certain  hours  of  the  day.  It  was 
the  very  centre  and  cynosure  of  the  old  city. 

During  the  reigns  of  the  first  and  second  Georges,  it  was 
customary  for  the  magistrates  of  Edinburgh  to  drink  the  king's 
health  on  his  birthday,  on  a  stage  erected  at  the  Cross — loyalty 
being  a  virtue  which  always  becomes  peculiarly  ostentatious 
when  it  is  under  any  suspicion  of  weakness.  On  one  of  these 
occasions,  the  ceremony  was  interrupted  by  a  shower  of  rain,  so 
heavy,  that  the  company,  with  one  consent,  suddenly  dispersed, 
leaving  their  entertainment  half  finished.  When  they  returned, 
the  glasses  were  found  full  of  water,  which  gave  a  Jacobite  lady 
occasion  for  the  following  epigram,  reported  to  me  by  a 
venerable  bishop  of  the  Scottish  Episcopal  Church : 

'  In  Cana  once  Heaven's  king  was  pleased 

With  some  gay  bridal  folks  to  dine, 
And  then,  in  honour  of  the  feast, 
He  changed  the  water  into  wine. 

But  when,  to  honour  Brunswick's  birth, 

Our  tribunes  mounted  the  Theatre, 
He  would  not  countenance  their  mirth, 

But  turned  their  claret  into  water  ! ' 

As  the  place  where  state  proclamations  were  always  made, 
where  the  execution  of  noted  state  criminals  took  place,  and 
where  many  important  public  ceremonials  were  enacted,  the 
Cross  of  Edinburgh  is  invested  with  numberless  associations  of 
a  most  interesting  kind,  extending  over  several  centuries.  Here 
took  place  the  mysterious  midnight  proclamation,  summoning 
the  Flodden  lords  to  the  domains  of  Pluto,  as  described  so 
strikingly  in  Marmion  ;  the  witness  being  '  Mr  Richard  Lawson, 
ill-disposed,  ganging  in  his  gallery  fore-stair.'  Here  did  King 
James  VI.  bring  together  his  barbarous  nobles,  and  make  them 
shake  hands  over  a  feast  partaken  of  before  the  eyes  of  the 
people.  Here  did  the  Covenanting  lords  read  their  protests 
against  Charles's  feeble  proclamations.  Here  fell  Montrose, 
Huntly,   the  Argylls,   Warriston,   and  many  others    of  note, 


CADDIES.  193 

victims  of  political  dissension.  Here  were  fountains  set 
a-flowing  with  the  blood-red  wine,  to  celebrate  the  passing  of 
kings  along  the  causeway.  And  here,  as  a  last  notable  fact, 
were  Prince  Charles  and  his  father  proclaimed  by  their  devoted 
Highlanders,  amidst  screams  of  pipe  and  blare  of  trumpet,  while 
the  beautiful  Mrs  Murray  of  Broughton  sat  beside  the  party  on 
horseback,  adorned  with  white  ribbons,  and  with  a  drawn  sword 
in  her  hand  !  How  strange  it  seems  that  a  time  should  at 
length  have  come  when  a  set  of  magistrates  thought  this 
structure  an  encumbrance  to  the  street,  and  had  it  removed. 
This  event  took  place  in  1756 — the  ornamental  stones  dispersed, 
the  pillar  taken  to  the  park  at  Drum. 

The  Cross  was  the  peculiar  citadel  and  rallying-point  of  a 
species  of  lazzaroni  called  Caddies  or  Cawdies,  which  formerly 
existed  in  Edinburgh,  employing  themselves  chiefly  as  street- 
messengers  and  valets-de-place.  A  ragged,  half-blackguard- 
looking  set  they  were,  but  allowed  to  be  amazingly  acute  and 
intelligent,  and  also  faithful  to  any  duty  intrusted  to  them.  A 
stranger  coming  td  reside  temporarily  in  Edinburgh,  got  a  caddy 
attached  to  his  service  to  conduct  him  from  one  part  of  the  town 
to  another,  to  run  errands  for  him ;  in  short,  to  be  wholly  at  his 
bidding. 

'  Omnia  novit, 
Grasculus  esuriens,  in  coelum,  jusseris,  ibit.' 

A  caddy  did  literally  know  everything — of  Edinburgh ;  even  to 
that  kind  of  knowledge  which  we  now  expect  only  in  a  street 
directory.  And  it  was  equally  true  that  he  could  hardly  be 
asked  to  go  anywhere,  or  upon  any  mission,  that  he  would  not 
go.  On  the  other  hand,  the  stranger  would  probably  be  aston- 
ished to  find  that,  in  a  few  hours,  his  caddy  was  acquainted 
^vith  every  particular  regarding  himself,  where  he  was  from, 
what  was  his  purpose  in  Edinburgh,  his  family  connections,  and 
his  own  tastes  and  dispositions.  Of  course  for  every  particle  of 
scandal  floating  about  Edinburgh,  the  caddy  was  a  ready  book 
of  reference.  We  sometimes  wonder  how  our  ancestors  did 
without  newspapers.     We  do  not  reflect  on  the  living  vehicles 


194  TRADITIONS    OF   EDINBURGH. 

of  news  which  then  existed :  the  privileged  beggar  for  the  country 
people — for  townsfolk,  the  caddies. 

The  caddy  is  alluded  to  as  a  useful  kind  of  blackguard  in 
Burt's  Letters  from  the  North  of  Scotland,  written  about  1740. 
He  says,  that  although  they  are  mere  wretches  in  rags,  lying 
upon  stairs  and  in  the  streets  at  night,  they  are  often  consider- 
ably trusted,  and  seldom  or  never  prove  unfaithful.  The  story 
told  by  tradition  is,  that  they  formed  a  society  under  a  chief 
called  their  constable,  with  a  common  fund  or  box ;  that  when 
they  committed  any  misdemeanour,  such  as  incivility  or  lying, 
they  were  punished  by  this  officer  by  fines,  or  sometimes  cor- 
poreally; and  if,  by  any  chance,  money  intrusted  to  them 
should  not  be  forthcoming,  it  was  made  up  out  of  the  common 
treasury.  Mr  Burt  says :  '  Whether  it  be  true  or  not,  I  cannot 
say,  but  I  have  been  told  by  several,  that  one  of  the  judges 
formerly  abandoned  two  of  his  sons  for  a  time  to  this  way  of 
life,  as  believing  it  would  create  in  them  a  sharpness  which 
might  be  of  use  to  them  in  the  future  course  of  their  lives.' 
Major  Topham,  describing  Edinburgh  in  1774,  says  of  the 
caddies  :  '  In  short,  they  are  the  tutelary  guardians  of  the  city ; 
and  it  is  entirely  owing  to  them  that  there  are  fewer  robberies 
and  less  housebreaking  in  Edinburgh  than  anywhere  else.' 

Another  conspicuous  set  of  public  servants,  peculiar  to  Edin- 
burgh in  past  times,  were  the  Chairmen,  or  carriers  of  sedans, 
who  also  formed  a  society  among  themselves,  but  were  of 
superior  respectability,  in  as  far  as  none  but  steady  considerate 
persons  of  so  humble  an  order  could  become  possessed  of  the 
means  to  buy  the  vehicle  by  which  they  made  their  bread.  In 
former  times,  when  Edinburgh  was  so  much  more  limited  than 
now,  and  rather  an  assemblage  of  alleys  than  of  streets,  sedans 
were  in  comparatively  great  request.  They  were  especially  in 
requisition  amongst  the  ladies — indeed,  almost  exclusively  so. 
From  time  immemorial,  the  sons  of  the  Gael  have  monopolised 
this  branch  of  service ;  and  as  far  as  the  business  of  a  sedan- 
carrier  can  yet  be  said  to  exist  amongst  us,  it  is  in  possession  of 
Highlanders. 


EDWARD   BURKE.  1 95 

The  reader  must  not  be  in  too  great  haste  to  smile  when  I 
claim  his  regard  for  a  historical  person  among  the  chairmen  of 
Edinburgh.  This  was  Edward  Burke,  the  immediate  attendant 
of  Prince  Charles  Edward  during  the  earlier  portion  of  his 
wanderings  in  the  Highlands.  Honest  Ned  had  been  a  chair- 
man in  our  city,  but  attaching  himself  as  a  servant  to  Mr 
Alexander  Macleod  of  Muiravonside,  aide-de-camp  to  the  Prince, 
it  was  his  fortune  to  be  present  at  the  battle  of  Culloden,  and 
to  fly  from  the  field  in  his  Royal  Highness's  company.  He 
attended  the  Prince  for  several  weeks,  sharing  cheerfully  in  all 
his  hardships,  and  doing  his  best  to  promote  his  escape.  Thus 
has  his  name  been  inseparably  associated  with  this  remarkable 
chapter  of  history.  After  parting  with  Charles,  this  poor  man 
underwent  some  dreadful  hardships  while  under  hiding,  his  fears 
of  being  taken  having  reference  chiefly  to  the  Prince,  as  he  was 
apprehensive  that  the  enemy  might  torture  him  to  gain  intelli- 
gence of  his  late  master's  movements.  At  length  the  Act  of 
Indemnity  placed  him  at  his  ease;  and  the  humble  creature  who, 
by  a  word  of  his  mouth,  might  have  gained  thirty  thousand 
pounds,  quietly  returned  to  his  duty  as  a  chairman  on  the  streets 
of  Edinburgh  !  Which  of  the  venal  train  of  Walpole,  which 
even  of  the  admirers  of  Pulteney,  is  more  entitled  to  admiration 
than  Ned  Burke?  A  man,  too,  who  could  neither  read  nor 
write — for  such  was  actually  his  case.*  * 

One  cannot  but  feel  it  to  be  in  some  small  degree  a  con- 
solatory circumstance,  and  not  without  a  certain  air  of  the 
romance  of  an  earlier  day,  that  a  bacchanal  company  came 

*  Bishop  Forbes  inserts  in  his  manuscript  (which  I  possess)  a  panegyrical  epitaph  for  Ned 
Burke,  stating  that  he  died  in  Edinburgh  in  November  1751.  He  also  gives  the  following 
particulars  from  Burke's  conversation. 

'  One  of  the  soles  of  Ned's  shoes  happening  to  come  off,  Ned  cursed  the  day  upon  which 
he  should  be  forced  to  go  without  shoes.  The  Prince,  hearing  him,  called  to  him  and  said : 
"  Ned,  look  at  me" — when  (said  Ned)  I  saw  him  holding  up  one  of  his  feet  at  me,  where 
there  was  de'il  a  sole  upon  the  shoe ;  and  then  I  said :  "  Oh,  my  dear  !  I  have  nothing  more 
to  say.     You  have  stopped  my  mouth  indeed." 

'When  Ned  was  talking  of  seeing  the  Prince  again,  he  spoke  these  words:  "If  the 
Prince  do  not  come  and  see  me  soon,  good  faith  I  will  go  and  see  my  daughter  [Charles 
having  taken  the  name  of  Betty  Burke  when  in  a  female  disguise],  and  crave  her ;  for  she 
has  not  yet  paid  her  christening  money,  and  as  little  has  she  paid  the  coat  I  ga'e  her  in  her 
greatest  need." ' 


196  TRADITIONS   OF  EDINBURGH. 

with  a  bowl  of  punch,  the  night  before  the  demoHtion,  and 
in  that  mood  of  mind  when  men  shed  '  smiles  that  might  as 
well  be  tears,'  drank  the  Dredgie  of  the  Cross  upon  its  doomed 

battlements. 

'  Oh  !  be  his  tomb  as  lead  to  lead, 
Upon  its  dull  destroyer's  head  ! 
A  minstrel's  malison  is  said.'  * 


THE   TOWN-GUARD. 


One  of  the  characteristic  features  of  Edinburgh  in  old  times 
was  its  Town-guard,  a  body  of  military  in  the  service  of  the 
magistrates  for  the  purposes  of  a  police,  but  dressed  and  armed 
in  all  respects  as  soldiers.  Composed  for  the  most  part  of  old 
Highlanders,  of  uncouth  aspect  and  speech,  dressed  in  a  dingy 
red  uniform  with  cocked  hats,  and  often  exchanging  the  musket 
for  an  antique  native  weapon  called  the  Lochaber  axe,  these 
men  were  (at  least  in  latter  times)  an  unfailing  subject  of  mirth 
to  the  citizens,  particularly  the  younger  ones.  In  my  recollec- 
tion they  had  a  sort  of  Patmos  in  the  ground-floor  of  the  Old 
Tolbooth,  where  a  few  of  them  might  constantly  be  seen  on 
duty,  endeavouring  to  look  as  formidable  as  possible  to  the  little 
boys  who  might  be  passing  by.  On  such  occasions  as  executions, 
or  races  at  Leith,  or  the  meeting  of  the  General  Assembly,  they 
rose  into  a  certain  degree  of  consequence ;  but,  in  general,  they 
could  hardly  be  considered  as  of  any  practical  utility.  Their 
numbers  were  at  that  time  much  reduced — only  twenty-five 
privates,  two  sergeants,  two  corporals,  and  a  couple  of  drummers. 
Every  night  did  their  drum  beat  through  the  Old  Town  at  eight 
o'clock,  as  a  kind  of  curfew.  No  other  drum,  it  seems,  was 
allowed  to  sound  on  the  High  Street  between  the  Luckenbooths 

'*  '  Upon  the  26th  of  Febraary  [1617],  the  Cross  of  Edinburgh  was  taken  down.  The  old 
long  stone,  about  forty  footes  or  thereby  in  length,  was  to  be  translated,  by  the  devise  of 
certain  mariners  in  Leith,  from  the  place  where  it  had  stood  past  the  memory  of  man,  to  a 
place  beneath  in  the  High  Street,  without  any  harm  to  the  stone ;  and  the  body  of  the  old 
Cross  was  demolished,  and  another  builded,  whereupon  the  long  stone  or  obelisk  was  erected 
and  set  up,  on  the  25th  day  Of  March.' — Calderwood's  Church  History. 


THE   TOWN-GUARD.  I97 

and'  Netherbow.  They  also  had  an  old  practice  of  giving  a 
charivari  on  the  drum,  on  the  night  of  a  marriage,  before  the 
lodgings  of  the  bridegroom  j  of  course  not  without  the  expecta- 
tion of  something  wherewithal  to  drink  the  health  of  the  young 
couple.  A  strange  remnant  of  old  times,  altogether,  were  the 
Town  Rats,  as  the  poor  old  fellows  were  disrespectfully  called 
by  the  boys,  in  allusion  to  the  hue  of  their  uniform. 

Previous  to  1805,  when  an  unarmed  police  was  established 
for  the  protection  of  the  streets,  the  Town-guard  had  consisted 
of  three  equally  large  companies,  each  with  a  lieutenant  (com- 
plimentarily  called  captain)  at  its  head.  Then  it  was  a  some- 
what more  respectable  body,  not  only  as  being  larger,  but 
invested  with  a  really  useful  purpose.  The  unruly  and  the 
vicious  stood  in  some  awe  of  a  troop  of  men  bearing  lethal 
weapons,  and  generally  somewhat  frank  in  the  use  of  them.  If 
sometimes  roughly  handled  on  kings'  birthdays,  and  other 
exciting  occasions,  they  in  their  turn  did  not  fail  to  treat 
cavalierly  enough  any  unfortunate  roisterer  whom  they  might 
find  breaking  the  peace.  They  had,  previous  to  1785,  a  guard- 
house in  the  middle  of  the  High  Street,  the  '  black  hole '  of 
which  had  rather  a  bad  character  among  the  bucks  and  the  frail 
ladies.  One  of  their  sergeants  in  those  days,  by  name  John 
Dhu,  is  commemorated  by  Scott  as  the  fiercest-looking  fellow  he 
ever  saw.  If  we  might  judge  from  poor  Robert  Fergusson,  they 
were  truly  formidable  in  his  time.     He  says  : 

'  And  thou,  great  god  o'  aquavitas, 
Wha  sway'st  the  empire  o'  this  city ;  .  .  . 

Be  thou  prepared 
To  hedge  us  frae  that  black  banditti. 
The  City-guard.' 

He  adds,  apostrophising  the  irascible  veterans  ; 

'  Oh,  soldiers,  for  your  ain  dear  sakes, 
For  Scotland's  love — the  land  o'  cakes — 
Gi'e  not  her  baims  sae  deadly  paiks. 

Nor  be  sae  rude, 
Wi'  firelock  and  Lochaber  axe, 

As  spill  their  blude  I 


198  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

The  affair  at  the  execution  of  Wilson  the  smuggler,  in  1736,  when, 
under  command  of  Porteous,  theyfired  upon  and  killed  many  of  the 
mob,  may  be  regarded  as  a  peculiarly  impressive  example  of  the 
stern  relation  in  which  they  stood  to  the  populace  of  a  former  age. 
The  great  bulk  of  the  corps  was  drawn  either  from  the  High- 
lands directly,  or  from  the  Highland  regiments.  A  humble 
Highlander  considered  it  as  getting  a  berth,  when  he  was  enlisted 
into  the  Edinburgh  Guard.  Of  this  feeling  we  have  a  remarkable 
illustration  in  an  anecdote  which  I  was  told  by  the  late  Mr  Alex- 
ander Campbell,  regarding  the  Highland  bard,  Duncan  Macintyre, 
usually  called  Donacha  Bhan.  This  man,  really  an  exquisite 
poet  to  those  understanding  his  language,  became  the  object  of 
a  kind  interest  to  many  educated  persons  in  Perthshire,  his 
native  county.  The  Earl  of  Breadalbane  sent  to  let  him  know 
that  he  wished  to  befriend  him,  and  was  anxious  to  procure  him 
some  situation  that  might  put  him  comparatively  at  his  ease. 
Poor  Duncan  returned  his  thanks,  and  asked  his  lordship's 
interest — to  get  him  into  the  Edinburgh  Town-guard — pay, 
sixpence  a  day  !  What  sort  of  material  these  men  would  have 
proved  in  the  hands  of  the  magistrates,  if  Provost  Stewart  had 
attempted,  by  their  means,  and  the  other  forces  at  his  command, 
to  hold  out  the  city  against  Prince  Charlie,  seems  hardly  to  be 
matter  of  doubt,  I  was  told  the  following  anecdote  of  a  member 
of  the  corps,  on  good  authority.  Robert  Stewart,  a  descendant 
of  the  Stewarts  of  Bonskeid  in  Athole,  was  then  a  private  in  the 
City-guard.  When  General  Hawley  left  Edinburgh  to  meet  the 
Highland  army  in  the  west  country,  Stewart  had  just  been 
relieved  from  duty  for  the  customary  period  of  two  days. 
Instantly  forming  his  plan  of  action,  he  set  off  with  his  gun, 
passed  through  the  English  troops  on  their  march,  and  joined 
those  of  the  Prince.  Stewart  fought  next  day  like  a  hero  in  the 
battle  of  Falkirk,  where  the  Prince  had  the  best  of  it ;  and  next 
morning  our  town-guardsman  was  back  to  Edinburgh,  in  time  to 
go  upon  duty  at  the  proper  hour.  The  captain  of  his  company 
suspected  what  business  Robert  and  his  gim  had  been  engaged 
in,  but  preserved  a  friendly  silence. 


THE   TOWN-GUARD.  1 99 

The  Gutter-blood  people  of  Edinburgh  had  an  extravagant 
idea  of  the  antiquity  of  the  Guard,  led  probably  by  a  fallacy 
arising  from  the  antiquity  of  the  individual  men.  They  used  to 
have  a  strange  story — too  ridiculous,  one  would  have  thought, 
for  a  moment's  credence  anywhere — that  the  Town-guard  existed 
before  the  Christian  era.  When  the  Romans  invaded  Britain, 
some  of  the  Town-guard  joined  them;  and  three  were  actually 
present  in  Pilate's  guard  at  the  Crucifixion !  In  reality,  the 
corps  took  its  rise  ia  the  difficulties  brought  on  by  bad  govern- 
ment in  1682,  when,  at  the  instigation  of  the  Duke  of  York,  it 
was  found  necessary  to  raise  a  body  of  io8  armed  men,  under  a 
trusty  commander,  simply  to  keep  the  people  in  check.* 

Fifty  years  ago  (1824),  the  so-called  captaincies  of  the  Guard 
were  snug  appointments,  in  great  request  among  respectable  old 
citizens  who  had  not  succeeded  in  business.  Kay  has  given 
us  some  illustrations  of  these  extraordinary  specimens  of  soldier- 
craft,  one  of  whom  was  nineteen  stone.  Captain  Gordon  of 
Gordonstown,  representative  of  one  of  the  oldest  families  in 
Scotland,  found  himself  obliged  by  fortune  to  accept  of  one  of 
these  situations. 

Scott,  writing  his  Heart  of  Mid-Lothian  in  181 7,  says:  'Of 
late,  the  gradual  diminution  of  these  civic  soldiers  reminds  one 
of  the  abatement  of  King  Lear's  hundred  knights.  The  edicts 
of  each  set  of  succeeding  magistrates  have,  like  those  of  Goneril 
and  Regan,  diminished  this  venerable  band  with  similar  question 
— "What  need  have  we  of  five-and-twenty  ? — ten? — five?"  and 
now  it  is  nearly  come  to:  "  What  need  we  one?"  A  spectre 
may  indeed  here  and  there  still  be  seen  of  an  old  gray-headed 
and  gray-bearded  Highlander,  with  war-worn  features,  but  bent 
double  by  age ;  dressed  in  an  old-fashioned  cocked-hat,  bound 
with  white  tape  instead  of  silver  lace,  and  in  coat,  waistcoat,  and 
breeches  of  a  muddy-coloured  red;  bearing  in  his  withered  hand 
an  ancient  weapon,  called  a  Lochaber  axe — a  long  pole,  namely, 
with  an  axe  at  the  extremity,  and  a  hook  at  the  back  of  the 
hatchet.     Such  a  phantom  of  former  days  still  creeps,  I  have 

*  See  Domestic  Annals  of  Scotland,  ii,  436. 


200  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

been  informed,  round  the  statue  of  Charles  II.  in  the  Parliament 
Square,  as  if  the  image  of  a  Stuart  were  the  last  refuge  for  any 
memorial  of  our  ancient  manners,'  &c.  At  the  close  of  this 
very  year,  the  'What  need  we  one?'  was  asked,  and  answered 
in  the  negative;  and  the  corps  was  accordingly  dissolved. 
'  Their  last  march  to  do  duty  at  Hallow  Fair  had  something 
in  it  affecting.  Their  drums  and  fifes  had  been  wont,  in  better 
days,  to  play  on  this  joyous  occasion  the  lively  tune  of 
"Jockey  to  the  fair ;" 

but  on  this  final  occasion,  the  afflicted  veterans  moved  slowly 
to  the  dirge  of 

"  The  last  time  I  came  owre  the  muir."  '  * 

The  half-serious  pathos  of  Scott  regarding  this  corps  becomes 
wholly  so,  when  we  learn  that  a  couple  of  members  survived, 
to  make  an  actual  last  public  appearance,  in  the  procession 
which  consecrated  his  richly  deserved  monument,  August  15, 
1846. 


EDINBURGH   MOBS. 

The  Blue  Blanket — Mobs  of  the  Seventeenth  Century — Bowed  Joseph- 

The  Edinburgh  populace  was  noted,  during  many  ages,  for  its 
readiness  to  rise  in  tumultuary  fashion,  whether  under  the 
prompting  of  religious  zeal,  or  from  inferior  motives.  At  an 
early  time  they  became  an  impromptu  army,  each  citizen 
possessing  weapons,  which  he  was  ready  and  willing  to  use. 
Thus  they  are  understood  to  have  risen  in  1482,  to  redeem 
James  III.  from  restraint  in  the  Castle;  for  which  service, 
besides  certain  privileges,  '  he  granted  them,'  says  Maitland,  '  a 
banner  or  standard,  with  a  power  to  display  the  same  in  defence 
of  their  king,  country,  and  their  own  rights.'    The  historian 

Waiierley  Annotations,  i.  435. 


THE   BLUE   BLANKET.  201 

adds :  '  This  flag,  at  present  denominated  the  Blue  Blanket, 
is  kept  by  the  Convener  of  the  Trades ;  at  whose  appearance 
therewith,  'tis  said  that  not  only  the  artificers  of  Edinburgh  are 
obliged  to  repair  to  it,  but  all  the  artisans  or  craftsmen  within 
Scotland'  are  bound  to  follow  it,  and  fight  under  the  Convener 
of  Edinburgh,  as  aforesaid.'  The  Blue  Blanket,  I  may  mention, 
has  become  a  sort  of  myth  in  Edinburgh,  being  magnified  by 
the  popular  imagination  into  a  banner  which  the  citizens  carried 
with  them  to  the  Holy  Land  in  one  of  the  Crusades — expeditions 
which  took  place  before  Edinburgh  had  become  a  town  fit  to 
furnish  any  distinct  corps  of  armed  men. 

When  the  Protestant  faith  came  to  stir  up  men's  minds,  the 
lower  order  of  citizens  became  a  formidable  body  indeed. 
James  VI.,  who  had  more  than  once  experienced  their  violence, 
and  consequently  knew  them  well,  says  very  naively  in  his 
Basilicon  Doron,  or  '  Book  of  Instruction '  to  his  son  :  '  They 
think  we  should  be  content  with  their  work,  how  bad  and  dear 
soever  it  be ;  and  if  they  be  in  anything  controuled,  up  goeth 
the  Blue  Blanket!* 

The  tumults  at  the  introduction  of  the  Service-book,  in  1637, 
need  only  be  alluded  to.  So  late  as  the  Revolution,  there 
appears  a  military  spirit  of  great  boldness  in  the  Edinburgh 
populace,  reminding  us  of  that  of  Paris  in  our  own  times : 
witness  the  bloody  contests  which  took  place  in  accomplishing 
the  destruction  of  the  papistical  arrangements  at  the  Abbey, 
December  1688.  The  Union  mobs  were  of  unexampled 
violence;  and  Edinburgh  was  only  kept  in  some  degree  of 
quiet,  during  the  greater  part  of  that  crisis,  by  a  great  assem- 
blage of  troops.  Finally,  in  the  Porteous  mob  we  have  a 
singular  example  of  popular  vengeance,,  wreaked  out  in  the 
most  cool,  but  determined  manner.  Men  seem  to  have  been 
habitually  under  an  impression  in  those  days  that  the  law  was  at 
once  an  imperfect  and  a  partial  power.  They  seem  to  have 
felt  themselves  constantly  liable  to  be  called  upon  to  supple- 
ment its  energy,  or  control  or  compensate  for  its  errors.  The 
mob  had  at  that  time  a  part  in  the  state. 


202  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

In  this  *  fierce  democracy '  there  once  arose  a  mighty  Pyrrhus, 
who  contrived,  by  dint  of  popular  qualifications,  to  subject  the 
rabble  to  his  command,  and  to  get  himself  elected,  by  acclama- 
tion, dictator  of  all  its  motions  and  exploits.  How  he  acquired 
his  wonderful  power,  is  not  recorded ;  but  it  is  to  be  supposed 
that  his  activity  on  occasions  of  mobbing,  his  boldness  and 
sagacity,  his  strong  voice  and  uncommonly  powerful  whistle, 
together  with  the  mere  whim  or  humour  of  the  thing,  conspired 
to  his  promotion.  His  trade  was  that  of  a  cobbler,  and  he 
resided  in  some  obscure  den  in  the  Cowgate.  His  person  was 
low  and  deformed,  with  the  sole  good  property  of  great 
muscular  strength  in  the  arms.  Yet  this  wretch,  miserable  and 
contemptible  as  he  appeared,  might  be  said  to  have  had,  at  one 
time,  the  command  of  the  Scottish  metropolis.  The  magistrates, 
it  is  true,  assembled  every  Wednesday  forenoon,  to  manage  the 
affairs,  and  deliberate  upon  the  improvements  of  the  city ;  but 
their  power  was  merely  that  of  a  viceroyalty.  Bowed  Joseph, 
otherwise  called  General  Joseph  Smith,  was  the  only  true 
potentate;  and  their  resolutions  could  only  be  carried  into 
effect  when  not  inconsistent  with  his  views  of  policy. 

In  exercising  the  functions  of  his  perilous  office,  it  does  not 
appear  that  he  ever  drcAv  down  the  vengeance  of  the  more 
lawfully  constituted  authorities  of  the  land.  On  the  contraiy, 
he  was  in  some  degree  countenanced  by  the  magistracy,  who, 
however,  patronised  him  rather  from  fear  than  respect.  They 
frequently  sent  for  him  in  emergencies,  in  order  to  consult  with 
him  regarding  the  best  means  of  appeasing  and  dispersing  the 
mob.  On  such  occasions,  nothing  could  equal  the  con- 
sequential air  which  he  assumed.  With  one  hand  stuck  care- 
lessly into  his  side,  and  another  slapped  resolutely  down  upon 
the  table — with  a  majestic  toss  of  the  head,  and  as  much  fierce- 
ness in  his  little  gray  eye  as  if  he  were  himself  a  mob — he  would 
stand  before  the  anxious  and  feeble  council,  pleading  the  cause 
of  his  compeers,  and  suggesting  the  best  means  of  assuaging 
their  just  fury.  He  was  generally  despatched  with  a  promise  of 
amendment,  and  a  hogshead  of  good  ale,  with  which  he  could 


BOWED   JOSEPH.  203 

easily  succeed  in  appeasing  his  men,  whose  dismissal,  after  a 
speech  from  himself,  and  a  libation  from  the  barrel,  was 
usually  accomplished  by  the  simple  words :  '  Now  disperse,  my 
lads  /^ 

Joseph  was  not  only  employed  in  directing  and  managing  the 
mobs,  but  frequently  performed  exploits  without  the  co-operation 
of  his  greasy  friends,  though  always  for  their  amusement,  and  in 
their  behalf.  Thus,  for  instance,  when  Wilkes,  by  his  celebrated 
Number  45,  incensed  the  Scottish  nation  so  generally  and  so 
bitterly,  Joseph  got  a  cart,  fitted  up  with  a  high  gallows,  from 
which  depended  a  straw-stuffed  effigy  of  North  Britain's  arch- 
enemy, with  the  devil  perched  upon  his  shoulder ;  and  this  he 
paraded  through  the  streets,  followed  by  the  multitude,  till  he 
came  to  the  Gallow  Lee  in  Leith  Walk,  where  two  criminals 
were  then  hanging  in  chains,  beside  whom  he  exposed  the 
figures  of  Wilkes  and  his  companion.  Thus  also,  when  the 
Douglas  cause  was  decided  against  the  popular  opinion  in  the 
Court  of  Session,  Joseph  went  up  to  the  chair  of  the  Lord 
President,  as  he  was  going  home  to  his  house,  and  called  him 
to  account  for  the  injustice  of  his  decision.  After  the  said 
decision  was  reversed  by  the  House  of  Lords,  Joseph,  by  way 
of  triumph  over  the  Scottish  court,  dressed  up  fifteen  figures  in 
rags  and  wigs,  resembhng  the  judicial  attire,  mounted  them  on 
asses,  and  led  them  through  the  streets,  telling  the  populace 
that  they  saw  the  fifteen  senators  of  the  College  of  Justice  ! 

When  the  craft  of  shoemakers  used,  in  former  times,  to 
parade  the  High  Street,  West  Bow,  and  Grassmarket,  with 
inverted  tin  kettles  on  their  heads,  and  school-boys'  rulers  in 
their  hands,  Joseph — who,  though  a  leader  and  commander  on 
every  other  public  occasion,  was  not  admitted  into  this  proces- 
sion, on  account  of  his  being  only  a  cobbler — dressed  himself  in 
his  best  clothes,  with  a  royal  crown  painted  and  gilt,  and  a 
wooden  truncheon,  and  marched  pompously  through  the  city, 
till  he  came  to  the  Netherbow,  where  he  planted  himself  in  the 
middle  of  the  street,  to  await  the  approach  of  the  procession, 
which  he,  as  a  citizen  of  Edinburgh,  proposed  to  welcome  into 

N 


204  TRADITIONS    OF   EDINBURGH. 

the  town.  When  the  royal  shoemaker  came  to  the  Netherbow 
Port,  Joseph  stood  forth,  removed  the  truncheon  from  his 
'haunch,  flourished  it  in  the  air,  and  pointing  it  to  the  ground, 
with  much  dignity  of  manner,  addressed  his  paste-work  majesty 
in  these  words :  '  O  great  King  Crispianus !  what  are  we  in 
thy  sight  but  a  parcel  of  puir  slaister-kytes — creeshy  cobblers — 
sons  of  bitches?'  And  I  have  been  assured  that  this  ceremony 
■was  performed  in  a  style  of  burlesque  exhibiting  no  small 
artistic  power. 

Joseph  had  a  wife,  whom  he  would  never  permit  to  walk 
beside  him,  it  being  his  opinion  that  women  are  inferior  to  the 
male  part  of  creation,  and  not  entitled  to  the  same  privileges. 
He  compelled  his  spouse  to  walk  a  few  paces  behind  him ;  and 
when  he  turned,  she  was  obliged  to  ihake  a  circuit,  so  as  to 
maintain  the  precise  distance  from  his  person  which  he  assigned 
to  her.  When  he  wished  to  say  anything  to  her,  he  whistled  as 
upon  a  dog,  upon  which  she  came  up  to  him  submissively,  and 
heard  what  he  had  to  say ;  after  which  she  respectfully  resumed 
her  station  in  the  rear. 

After  he  had  figured  for  a  few  years  as  an  active  partisan  of 
the  people,  his  name  waxed  of  such  account  with  them,  that  it 
is  said  he  could,  in  the  course  of  an  hour,  collect  a  crowd  X)f  not 
fewer  than  ten  thousand  persons,  all  ready  to  obey  his  high 
behests,  or  to  disperse  at  his  bidding.  In  collecting  his  troops, 
he  employed  a  drum,  which,  though  a  general,  he  did  not 
disdain  to  beat  with  his  own  hands ;  and  never,  surely,  had 
the  fiery  cross  of  the  Highland  chief  such  an  effect  upon  the 
warlike  devotion  of  his  clan,  as  Bowed  Joseph's  drum  had  upon, 
the  spirit  of  the  Edinburgh  rabble.  As  he  strode  along,  the 
street  was  cleared  of  its  loungers,  every  close  pouring  forth  an 
addition  to  his  train,  like  the  populous  glens  adjacent  to  a  large 
Highland  strath  giving  forth  their  accessions  to  the  general  force 
collected  by  the  aforesaid  cross.  The  Town  Rats,  who  might 
peep  forth  like  old  cautious  snails  on  hearing  his  drum,  would 
draw  in  their  horns  with  a  Gaelic  execration,  and  shut  their 
door,  as  he  approached ;  while  the  Lazy  Corner  was,  at  sight  of 


BOWED  JOSEPH.  205 

him,  a  lazy  corner  no  longer;  and  the  West  Bow  ceased  to 
resound  as  he  descended. 

It  would  appear,  after  all,  that  there  was  a  moral  foundation 
for  Joseph's  power,  as  there  must  be  for  that  of  all  governments 
of  a  more  regular  nature  that  would  wish  to  thrive  or  be  lasting. 
The  little  ^man  was  never  known  to  act  in  a  bad  cause,  or  in 
any  way  to  go  against  the  principles  of  natural  justice.  He 
employed  his  power  in  the  redress  of  such  grievances  as  the  law 
of  the  land  does  not,  or  cannot,  easily  reach ;  and  it  was 
apparent  that  almost  everything  he  did  was  for  the  sake  of  what 
he  himself  designated  fair-play.  Fair-play,  indeed,  was  his 
constant  object,  whether  in  clearing  room  with  his  brawny  arms 
for  a  boxing-match,  insulting  the  constituted  authorities,  sacking 
the  granary  of  a  monopolist,  or  besieging  the  Town-council  in 
their  chamber. 

An  anecdote,  which  proves  this  strong '  love  of  fair-play, 
deserves  to  be  recorded.  A  poor  man  in  the  Pleasance,  having  ' 
been  a  little  deficient  in  his  rent,  and  in  the  country  on  business, 
his  landlord  seized  and  rouped  his  household  furniture,  turning 
out  the  family  to  the  street.  On  the  poor  man's  return,  finding 
the  house  desolate,  and  his  family  in  misery,  he  went  to  a 
neighbouring  stable  and  hanged  himself*  Bowed  Joseph  did 
not  long  remain  ignorant  of  the  case;  and  as  soon  as  it  was 
generally  known  in  the  city,  he  shouldered  on  his  drum,  and 
after  beating  it  through  the  streets  for  half  an  hour,  found 
himself  followed  by  several  thousand  persons,  inflamed  with 
resentment  at  the  landlord's  cruelty.  ;~  With  this  army  he 
marched  to  an  open  space  of  ground  now  covered  by  Adam 
Street,  Roxburgh  Street,  &c.,  named  in  former  times  Thomson's 
Park,  where,  mounted  upon  the  shoulders  of  six  of  his  lieutenant- 
generals,  he  proceeded  to  harangue  them,  in  Cambyses's  vein, 
concerning  the  flagrant  oppression  which  they  were  about  to 
revenge.  He  concluded  by  directing  his  men  to  sack  the 
premises  of  the  cruel  landlord,  who  by  this  time  had  wisely 
made  his  escape ;  and  this  order  was  instantly  obeyed.     Every 

•  Scots  Magazine,  June  1767. 


206  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

article  which  the  house  contained  was  brought  out  to  the  street, 
where,  being  piled  up  in  a  heap,  the  general  set  fire  to  them 
with  his  own  hand,  while  the  crowd  rent  the  air  with  their 
acclamations.  Some  money  and  bank-notes  perished  in  the 
blaze — besides  an  eight-day  clock,  which,  sensible  to  the  last, 
calmly  struck  ten  just  as  it  was  consigned  to  the  flamed. 

On  another  occasion,  during  a  scarcity,  the  mob,  headed  by 
Joseph,  had  compelled  all  the  meal-dealers  to  sell  their  meal  at 
a  certain  price  per  peck,  under  penalty  of  being  obliged  to  shut 
up  their  shops.  One  of  them,  whose  place  of  business  was  in 
the  Grassmarket,  agreed  to  sell  his  meal  at  the  price  fixed  by 
the  general,  for  the  good  of  the  poor,  as  he  said ;  and  he  did 
so  under  the  superintendence  of  Joseph,  who  stationed  a  party 
at  the  shop-door  to  preserve  peace  and  good  order,  till  the 
whole  stock  was  disposed  of,  when,  by  their  leader's  command, 
the  mob  gave  three  hearty  cheers,  and  quietly  dispersed.  Next 
day,  the  unlucky  victualler  let  his  friends  know  that  he  had  not 
suffered  so  much  by  this  compulsory  trade  as  might  be  supposed; 
because,  though  the  price  was  below  that  of  the  market,  he  had 
taken  care  to  use  a  measure  which  gave  only  about  three-fourths, 
instead  of  the  whole.  It  was  not  long  ere  this  intelligence  came 
to  the  ears  of  our  tribune,  who,  immediately  collecting  a  party 
of  his  troops,  beset  the  meal-dealer  before  he  was  aware,  and 
compelled  him  to  pay  back  a  fourth  of  the  price  of  every  peck 
of  meal  sold ;  then  giving  their  victim  a  hearty  drubbing,  they 
sacked  his  shop,  and  quietly  dispersed  as  before. 

Some  foreign  princes  happening  to  visit  Edinburgh  'during 
Joseph's  administration,  at  a  period  of  the  year  when  the  mob 
of  Edinburgh  was  wont  to  amuse  itself  with  an  annual  burning 
of  the  pope,  the  magistrates  felt  anxious  that  this  ceremony- 
should  for  once  be  dispensed  with,  as  it  might  hurt  the  feelings 
of  their  distinguished  visitors.  The  provost,  in  this  emergency, 
resolved  not  to  employ  his  own  authority,  but  that  of  Joseph, 
to  whom,  accordingly,  he  despatched  his  compliments,  .with 
half  a  guinea,  begging  his  kind  offices  in  dissuading  the  mob 
from  the  performance  of  their  accustomed  sport.   Joseph  received 


BICKERS.  207 

the  message  with  the  respect  due  to  the  commission  of  'his 
friend  the  lord  provost,'  and  pocketed  the  half-guinea  with  a 
complacent  smile;  but  standing  up  to  his  full  height,  and 
resolutely  shaking  his  rough  head,  he  gave  for  answer,  that  '  he 
v/as  highly  gratified  by  his  lordship's  message ;  but,  everything 
considered,  the  pope  vmst  he  burnt  P  And  so  the  pope,  honest 
man,  was  burnt  with  all  the  honours  accordingly. 

Joseph  was  at  last-  killed  by  a  fall  from  the  top  of  a  Leith 
stage-coach,  in  returning  from  the  races,  while  in  a  state  of 
intoxication,  about  the  year  1780.  It  is  to  be  hoped,  for  the 
good  of  society,  that  'we  ne'er  shall  look  upon  his  like  again.'  * 


BICKERS. 


Amongst  the  social  features  of  a  bygone  age  in  Edinburgh, 
were  the  bickers  in  which  the  boys  were  wont  to  indulge — that 
is,  street  conflicts,  conducted  chiefly  with  stones,  though  occa- 
sionally with  sticks  also,  and  even  more  formidable  weapons. 
One  cannot  but  wonder  that,  so  lately  as  the  period  when  elderly 
men  now  living  were  boys,  the  powers  for  preserving  peace  in 
the  city  should  have  been  so  weak  as  to  allow  of  such  battles 
taking  place  once  or  twice  almost  every  week.  The  practice 
was,  however,  only  of  a  piece  with  the  general  rudeness  of  those 
old  days ;  and  after  all,  there  was  more  appearance  than  reality 
of  danger  attending  it.  It  was  truly,  as  one  who  had  borne  a 
part  in  it  has  remarked,  '  only  a  rough  kind  of  play.'  t 

The  most  likely  time  for  a  bicker  was  Saturday  afternoon, 
when  the  schools  and  hospitals  held  no  restraint  over  their 
tenants.  Then  it  was  almost  certain  that  either  the  Old-town 
and  New-town  boys,  the  George  Square  and  Potterrow  boys, 

*  The  skeleton  of  this  singular  being  exists  entire  in  the  class-room  of  the  professor  of 
anatomy  in  the  College. 
t  Notes  to  Waverley. 


208  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

the  Herioters  and  the  Watsoners,  or  some  other  parties  accus- 
tomed to  regard  themselves  as  natural  enemies,  would  meet  on 
some  common  ground,  and  fall  a-pelting  each  other.  There 
were  hardly  anywhere  two  adjoining  streets,  but  the  boys  respec- 
tively belonging  to  them  would  occasionally  hold  encounters  of 
this  kind ;  and  the  animosity  assumed  a  darker  tinge  if  there 
was  any  discrepancy  of  rank  or  condition  between  the  parties, 
as  was  apt  to  be  the  case  when,  for  instance,  the  Old-town 
lads  met  the  children  of  the  aristocratic  streets  to  the  north. 
Older  people  looked  on  with  anxiety,  and  wondered  what  the 
Town-guard  was  about;  and  occasionally  reports  were  heard 
that  such  a  boy  had  got  a  wound  in  the  head,  while  another  had 
lost  a  couple  of  his  front  teeth  :  it  was  even  said  that  fatal  cases 
had  occurred  in  the  memory  of  aged  citizens.  Yet,  to  the  best 
of  my  recollection — for  I  do  remember  something  of  bickers — 
there  was  little  likelihood  of  severe  damage.  The  parties  some- 
how always  kept  at  a  good  distance  from  each  other,  and  there 
was  a  perpetual  running  in  one  direction  or  another ;  certainly 
nothing  like  hand-to-hand  fighting.  Occasionally,  attempts 
were  made  to  put  down  the  riot,  but  seldom  with  much  success ; 
for  it  was  one  of  the  most  ludicrous  features  of  these  contests, 
that  whenever  the  ToAvn-guard  made  its  appearance  on  the 
ground,  the  belligerent  powers  instantly  coalesced  against  the 
common  foe.  Besides,  they  could  quickly  make  their  way  to 
other  ground,  and  there  continue  the  war. 

Bickers  must  have  had  a  foundation  in  human  nature :  from 
no  temporary  effervescence  of  the  boy  mind  did  they  spring ; 
pleasant,  though  wrong,  had  they  been  from  all  time.  Witness 
the  following  act  of  the  Town-council  so  long  ago  as  1529: 
*  Bikkyrringis  hetwix  Barnis. — It  is  statut  and  ordainit  be  the 
prouest  bailies  and  counsall  Forsamekle  as  ther  has  bene  gret 
bikkyrringis  betwix  barnis  and  followis  in  tymes  past  and  diuerse 
thar  throw  hurt  in  perell  of  ther  lyffis  and  gif  sik  thingis  be  usit 
thar  man  diuerse  barnis  and  innocentis  be  slane  and  diuisione 
ryse  amangis  nychtbouris  theirfor  we  charge  straitlie  and  com- 
mandis  in  our  Souerane  Lord  the  Kingis  name  the  prouest  and 


BICKERS.  209 

bailies  of  this  burgh  that  na  sic  bykkyrringis  be  usit  in  tymes  to 
cum.  Certifing  that  and  ony  persone  be  fund  bykkyrrand  that 
faderis  and  moderis  sail  ansuer  and  be  accusit  for  thar  deidis 
and  gif  thai  be  vagabondis  thai  to  be  scurgit  and  bannist  the 
toune.' 

An  anecdote  which  Scott  has  told  of  his  share  in  the  bickers 
which  took  place  in  his  youth  between  the  George  Square 
youth  and  the  plebeian  fry  of  the  neighbouring  streets,  is  so  pat 
to  this  occasion,  that  its  reproduction  may  be  excusable.  '  It 
followed,'  he  says,  '  from  our  frequent  opposition  to  each  other, 
that,  though  not  knowing  the  names  of  our  enemies,  we  were 
yet  well  acquainted  with  their  appearance,  and  had  nicknames 
for  the  most  remarkable  of  them.  One  very  active  and  spirited 
boy  might  be  considered  as  the  principal  leader  in  the  cohort 
of  the  suburbs.  He  was,  I  suppose,  thirteen  or  fourteen  years 
old,  finely  made,  tall,  blue-eyed,  with  long  fair  hair,  the  very 
picture  of  a  youthful  Goth.  This  lad  was  always  first  in  the 
charge,  and  last  in  the  retreat — the  Achilles,  at  once,  and  Ajax, 
of  the  Crosscauseway.  He  was  too  formidable  to  us  not  to 
have  a  cognomen,  and,  like  tliat  of  a  knight  of  old,  it  was  taken 
from  the  most  remarkable  part  of  his  dress,  being  a  pair  of  old 
green  livery  breeches,  which  was  "the  principal  part  of  his 
clothing ;  for,  like  Pentapolin,  according  to  Don  Quixote's 
account.  Green  Breeks,  as  we  called  him,  always  entered  the 
battle  with  bare  arms,  legs,  and  feet. 

'  It  fell  that,  once  upon  a  time,  when  the  combat  was  at  the 
thickest,  this  plebeian  champion  headed  a  sudden  charge,  so 
rapid  and  furious,  that  all  fled  before  him.  He  was  several 
paces  before  his  comrades,  and  had  actually  laid  his  hands  on 
the  patrician  standard,  when  one  of  our  party,  whom  some 
misjudging  friend  had  intrusted  with  a  couteati  de  chasse,  or 
hanger,  inspired  with  a  zeal  for  the  honour  of  the  corps  worthy 
of  Major  Sturgeon  himself,  struck  poor  Green  Breeks  over  the 
head  with  strength  sufficient  to  cut  him  down.  When  this  was 
seen,  the  casualty  was  so  far  beyond  what  had  ever  taken  place 
before,  that  both  parties  fled  different  ways,  leaving  poor  Green 


2IO  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

Breeks,  with  his  bright  hair  plentifully  dabbled  in  blood,  to  the 
care  of  the  watchman,  who  (honest  man)  took  care  not  to  know 
who  had  done  the  mischief.  The  bloody  hanger  was  flung  into 
one  of  the  Meadow  ditches,  and  solemn  secrecy  was  sworn  on 
all  hands ;  but  the  remorse  and  terror  of  the  actor  were  beyond 
all  bounds,  and  his  apprehensions  of  the  most  dreadful  character. 
The  wounded  hero  was  for  a  few  days  in  the  Infirmary,  the  case 
being  only  a  trifling  one.  But  though  inquiry  was  strongly 
pressed  on  him,  no  argument  could  make  him  "indicate  the 
person  from  whom  he  had  received  the  wound,  though  he  must 
have  been  perfectly  well  known  to  him.  When  he  recovered, 
and  was  dismissed,'  the  author  and  his  brother  opened  a  com- 
munication with  him,  through  the  medium  of  a  popular  ginger- 
bread baker,  of  whom  both  parties  were  customers,  in  order  to 
tender  a  subsidy  in  name  of  smart-money.  The  sum  would 
excite  ridicule  were  I  to  name  it;  but  sure  I  am,  that  the 
pockets  of  the  noted  Green  Breeks  never  held  as  much  money 
of  his  own.  He  declined  the  remittance,  saying  that  he  would 
not  sell  his  blood ;  but  at  the  same  time  reprobated  the  idea  of 
being  an  informer,  which  he  said  was  clam — that  is,  base  or 
mean.  With  much  urgency  he  accepted  a  pound  of  snuff  for 
the  use  of  some  old  woman — aunt,  grandmother,  or  the  like — 
with  whom  he  lived.  We  did  not  become  friends,  for  the 
bickers  were  more  agreeable  to  both  parties  than  any  more 
pacific  amusement;  but  we  conducted  them  ever  after  under 
mutual  assurances  of  the  highest  consideration  for  each  other.'  * 


SUSANNA,   COUNTESS   OF   EGLINTOUNE. 

The  house  on  the  west  side  of  the  Old  Stamp-office  Close, 
High  Street,  formerly  Fortune's  Tavern,  was,  in  the  early  part 
of  the  last  century,  the  family  mansion  of  Alexander,  Earl  of 

*  Waverley  Annotations,  i.  70. 


SUSANNA,    COUNTESS   OF   EGLINTOUNE.  211 

Eglintoune.  It  is  a  building  of  considerable  height  and  extent, 
accessible  by  a  broad  scale  stair.  The  alley  in  which  it  is 
situated  bears  great  marks  of  fonner  respectabihty,  and  con- 
tained, till  the  year  182 1,  the  Stamp-office,  then  removed  to  the 
Waterloo  Buildings. 

The  ninth  Earl  of  Eglintoune  *  was  one  of  those  patriarchal 
peers  who  live  to  an  advanced  age — indefatigable  in  the 
frequency  of  their  marriages  and  the  number  of  their  children 
— who  linger  on  and  on,  with  an  unfailing  succession  of  young 
countesses,  and  die  at  last  leaving  a  progeny  interspersed 
throughout  the  whole  of  Douglas's  Peerage,  two  volumes,  folio, 
re-edited  by  Wood.  His  lordship,  in  early  life,  married  a  sister 
of  Lady  Dundee,  who  brought  him  a  large  family,  and  died  just 
about  that  happy  period  when  she  could  not  have  greatly 
increased  it.  His  next  wife  was  a  daughter  of  Chancellor 
Aberdeen,  who  only  added  one  daughter  to  his  stock,  and  then 
paused,  in  a  fit  of  ill  health,  to  the  great  vexation  of  his  lordship, 
who,  on  account  of  his  two  sons  by  the  first  countess  having 
died  young,  was  anxious  for  an  heir.  This  was  a  consummation 
to  his  nuptial  happiness  which  Countess  Anne  did  not  seem  at 
all  likely  to  bring  about,  and  the  chagrin  of  his  lordship  must 
have  been  increased  by  the  longevity  which  her  very  ill  health 
seemed  to  confer  upon  her ;  for  her  ladyship  was  one  of  those 
valetudinarians  who  are  too  well  acquainted  with  death,  being 
always  just  at  his  door,  ever  to  come  to  closer  quarters  with 
him.  At  this  juncture  the  blooming  Miss  Kennedy  was  brought 
to  Edinburgh  by  her  father,  Sir  Archibald,  the  rough  old  cavalier, 
who  made  himself  so  conspicuous  in  the  Persecution,  and  in 
Dundee's  wars. 

Susanna  Kennedy,  though  the  daughter  of  a  lady  considerably 
under  the  middle  size — one  of  the  three  co-heiresses  of  the 
Covenanting    general,    David    Leslie    (Lord    Newark),   whom 

*  He  is  said  to  have  been  a  nobleman  of  considerable  talent,  and  a  great  underhand 
supporter  of  the  exiled  family. — See  the  Lockhart  Papers.  George  Lockhart  had  married 
his  daughter  Euphemia,  or  Lady  Effie,  as  she  was  commonly  called.  In  the  EdinburgJi 
Anmial  Register,  there  is  preserved  a  letter  from  Lord  Eglintoune  to  his  son,  replete  with 
good  sense  as  well  as  paternal  aflfection. 


212  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

Cromwell  overthrew  at  Dunbar — ^was  six  feet  high,  extremely 
handsome,  elegant  in  her  carriage,  and  had  a  face  and  com- 
plexion of  most  bewitching  loveliness.  Her  relations  and 
nurses  always  anticipated  that  she  was  to  marry  the  Earl  of 
Eglintoune,  in  spite  of  their  disparity  of  age ;  for,  while  walking 
one  day  in'  her  father's  garden  at  Culzean,  there  alighted  upon 
her  shoulder  a  hawk,  with  his  lordship's  name  upon  its  bells, 
which  was  considered  an  infallible  omen  of  her  fate.  Her 
appearance  in  Edinburgh,  which  took  place  about  the  time  of 
the  Union,  gained  her  a  vast  accession  of  lovers  among  the 
nobility  and  gentry,  and  set  all  the  rhyming  fancies  of  the  period 
agog.  Among  her  swains  was  Sir  John  Clerk  of  Penicuik,  a 
man  of  learning  and  talent  in  days  when  such  qualities  were  not 
common.  As  Miss  Kennedy  was  understood  to  be  fond  of 
music,  he  sent  her  a  flute  as  a  love-gift ;  from  which  it  may  be 
surmised  that  this  instrument  was  played  by  females  in  that  age, 
while  as  yet  the  pianoforte  was  not.  When  the  young  lady 
attempted  to  blow  the  instrument,  something  was  found  to  inter- 
rupt the  sound,  which  turned  out  to  be  a  copy  of  verses  in  her 
praise : 

'  Harmonious  pipe,  I  languish  for  thy  bhss, 
When  pressed  to  Silvia's  lips  with  gentle  kiss  ! 
And  when  her  tender  fingers  round  thee  move 
In  soft  embrace,  I  listen  and  approve 
Those  melting  notes  which  soothe  my  soul  in  love. 
Embalmed  with  odours  from  her  breath  that  ilow. 
You  yield  your  music  when  she 's  pleased  to  blow ; 
And  thus  at  once  the  charming  lovely  fair 
Delights  with  sounds,  with  sweets  perfuines  the  air. 
Go,  happy  pipe,  and  ever  mindful  be 
To  court  bewitching  Silvia  for  me  ; 
Tell  all  I  feel — you  cannot  tell  too  much — 
Repeat  my  love  at  each  soft  melting  touch — 
Since  I  to  her  my  liberty  resign, 
Take  thou  the  care  to  tune  her  heart  to  mine.' 

Unhappily  for  this  accomplished  and  poetical  lover.  Lord 
Eglintoune's  sickly  wife  happened  just  about  this  time  to 
die,  and  set  his  lordship  again  at  large  among  the  spinsters  of 


SUSANNA,   COUNTESS    OF   EGLINTOUNE.  213 

Scotland.  Admirers  of  a  youthful,  impassioned,  and  sonnet- 
making  cast,  might  have  trembled  at  his  approach  to  the  shrine  of 
their  divinity;  for  his  lordship  was  one  of  those  titled  suitors,  who, 
however  old  and  horrible,  are  never  rejected,  except  in  novels 
and  romances.  It  appears  that  poor  Clerk  had  actually  made  a 
declaration  of  his  passion  for  Miss  Kennedy,  which  her  father 
was  taking  into  consideration,  a  short  while  before  the  death  of 
Lady  Eglintoune.  As  an  old  friend  and  neighbour.  Sir  Archibald 
thought  he  would  consult  the  earl  upon  the  subject,  and  he 
accordingly  proceeded  to  do  so.  Short,  but  decisive,  was  the 
conference.  '  Bide  a  wee.  Sir  Archy,'  said  his  lordship ;  '  my 
wife 's  very  sickly.'  With  Sir  Archibald,  as  with  Mrs  Slipslop, 
the  least  hint  sufficed :  the  case  was  at  once  settled  against  the 
elegant  baronet  of  Penicuik.  The  lovely  Susanna  accordingly 
became  in  due  time  Countess  of  Eglintoune. 

Even  after  this  attainment  of  one  of  the  greatest  blessings 
that  life  has  to  bestow,*  the  old  peer's  happiness  was  like  to 
have  been  destroyed  by  another  untoward  circumstance.  It  was 
true  that  he  had  the  handsomest  wife  in  the  kingdom,  and  she 
brought  him  as  many  children  as  he  could  desire.  One  after 
another  came  no  fewer  than  seven  daughters.  But  then  his 
lordship  wanted  a  male  heir ;  and  every  one  knows  how  poor  a 
consolation  a  train  of  daughters,  however  long,  proves  in  such  a 
case.  He  was  so  grieved  at  the  want  of  a  son,  that  he  threat- 
ened to  divorce  his  lady.  The  countess  replied  that  he  need 
not  do  that,  for  she  would  readily  agree  to  a  separation,  provided 
he  would  give  back  what  he  had  with  her.  His  lordship, 
supposing  she  alluded  only  to  pecuniary  matters,  assured  her 
she  should  have  her  fortune  to  the  last  penny.  '  Na,  na,  my 
lord,'  said  she,  '  that  winna  do :  return  me  my  youth,  beauty, 
and  virginity,  and  dismiss  me  when  you  please.'  His  lordship, 
not  being  able  to  comply  with  this  demand,  willingly  let  the 
matter  drop ;  and  before  the  year  was  out,  her  ladyship  brought 
him  a  son,  who  established  the  affection  of  his  parents  on  an 

*  The  anecdote  which  follows  is  chiefly  taken  from   T^  Tell-tale,  a  rare  collection, 
published  in  1762. 


214  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

enduring  basis.  Tvyo  other  male  children  succeeded.  The 
countess  was  remarkable  for  a  manner  quite  peculiar  to  herself, 
and  which  was  remembered  as  the  Eglmtoune  air,  or  the  Eglin- 
toune  manner,  long  after  her  death.  A  Scottish  gentleman, 
writing  from  London  in  1730,  says:  '  Lady  Eglintoune  has  set 
out  for  Scotland,  much  satisfied  with  the  honour  and  civilities 
shewn  her  ladyship  by  the  queen  and  all  the  royal  family :  she 
has  done  her  country  more  honour  than  any  lady  I  have  seen 
here,  both  by  a  genteel  and  a  prudent  behaviour.'*  Her 
daughters  were  also  handsome  women.  It  was  a  goodly  sight, 
a  century  ago,  to  see  the  long  procession  of  sedans,  containing 
Lady  Eglintoune  and  her  daughters,  devolve  from  the  close,  and 
proceed  to  the  Assembly  Rooms,  where  there  was  sure  to  be  a 
crowd  of  plebeian  admirers  congregated,  to  behold  their  lofty 
and  graceful  figures  step  from  the  chairs  on  the  pavement.  It 
could  not  fail  to  be  a  remarkable  sight — eight  beautiful  women, 
conspicuous  for  their  stature  and  carriage,  all  dressed  in  the 
splendid  though  formal  fashions  of  that  period,  and  inspired  at 
once  with  dignity  of  birth  and  consciousness  of  beauty !  Alas !  such 
visions  no  longer  illuminate  the  dark  tortuosities  of  Auld  Reekie ! 

Many  of  the  young  ladies  found  good  matches,  and  were  the 
mothers  of  men  more  or  less  distinguished  for  intellectual  attain- 
ments. Sir  James  Macdonald,  the  Marcellus  of  the  Hebrides, 
together  with  his  two  more  fortunate  brothers,  were  the  progeny 
of  Lady  Margaret ;  and  in  various  other  branches  of  the  family, 
talent  seems  to  be  hereditary. 

The  countess  was  herself  a  blue-stocking — at  that  time  a  sort 
of  prodigy — and  gave  encouragement  to  the  humble  literati  of 
her  time.  The  unfortunate  Boyse  dedicated  a  volume  of  poems 
to  her ;  and  I  need  scarcely  remind  the  Scottish  reader  that  the 
Gentle  Shepherd  was  laid  at  her  ladyship's  feet.  The  dedica- 
tion prefixed  to  that  pastoral  drama  contains  what  appears  the 
usual  amount  of  extravagant  praise;  yet  it  was  perhaps  little 
beyond  the  truth.  For  the  'penetration,  superior  wit,  and 
profound  judgment '  which  Allan  attributes  to  her  ladyship,  she 

*  Notes  by  C.  K.  Sharpe,  in  Stenhouse's  edition  of  the  Scots  Musical  Museum,  ii.  202. 


SUSANNA,   COUNTESS   OF   EGLINTOUNE.  215 

was  perhaps  indebted  in  some  degree  to  the  lucky  accident  of 
her  having  exercised  it  in  the  bard's  favour;  but  he  assuredly- 
overstrained  his  conscience  very  little  when  he  said  she  was 
'  possessed  of  every  outward  charm  in  the  most  perfect  degree.' 
Neither  was  it  too  much  to  speak  of  'the  unfading  beauties 
of  wisdom  and  piety'  which  adorned  her  ladyship's  mind.* 
Hamilton  of  Bangour's  prefatory  verses,  which  are  equally 
laudatory  and  well  bestowed,  contain  the  following  beautiful 
character  of  the  lady,  with  a  just  compliment  to  her  daughters  : 

'  In  virtues  rich,  in  goodness  unconfined, 
Thou  shin'st  a  fair  example  to  thy  kind  ; 
Sincere,  and  equal  to  thy  neighbours'  fame, 
How  swift  to  praise,  how  obstinate  to  blame  ! 
Bold  in  thy  presence  bashfulness  appears, 
And  backward  merit  loses  all  its  fears. 
Supremely  blest  by  Heaven,  Heaven's  richest  grace 
Confest  is  thine — an  early  blooming  race  ; 
"Whose  pleasing  smiles  shall  guardian  wisdom  arm — 
,    Divine  instruction  ! — taught  of  thee  to  charm. 
What  transports  shall  they  to  thy  soul  impart 
(The  conscious  transports  of  a  parent's  heart), 
When  thou  behold'st  them  of  each  grace  possessed. 
And  sighing  youths  imploring  to  be  blest 
After  thy  image  formed,  with  charms  like  thine, 
Or  in  the  visit  or  the  dance  +  to  shine  : 
Thrice  happy  who  succeed  their  mother's  praise. 
The  lovely  Eglintounes  of  other  days  ! ' 

•  As  a  specimen  of  the  complimentary  intercourse  of  the  poet  with  Lady  Eglintoune,  an 
anecdote  is  told  of  her  having  once  sent  him  a  basket  of  fine  fruit ;  to  which  he  returned 
this  stanza : 

'  Now,  Priam's  son,  ye  may  be  mute. 

For  I  can  bauldly  brag  wi'  thee  ; 
Thou  to  the  fairest  gave  the  fruit — 
The  fairest  gave  the  fruit  to  me.' 
The  love  of  raillery  has  recorded  that,  on  this  being  communicated  by  Ramsay  to  his 
friend  Eustace  Budgell,  the  following  comment  was  soon  after  received  from  the  English 
wit : 

'  As  Juno  fair,  as  Venus' kind. 

She  may  have  been  who  gave  the  fruit ; 
But  had  she  had  Minerva's  mind. 

She  'd  ne'er  have  given 't  to  such  a  brute.' 
t  An  old  gentleman  told  our  informant  that  he  never  saw  so  beautiful  a  figure  in  his  life 
as  Lady  Eglintoune  at  a  Hunters'  Ball  in  Holyrood  House,  dancing  a  minuet  in  a  large 
hoop,  and  a  suit  of  black  velvet,  trimmed  with  gold. 


2l6  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

It  may  be  remarked  that  her  ladyship's  thorough-paced  Jacobit- 
ism,  which  she  had  inherited  from  her  father,  tended  much  to 
make 'her  the  friend  of  Ramsay,  Hamilton,  and  other  Cavalier 
bards.  She  was,  it  is  believed,  little  given  to  patronising  Whig 
poets. 

The  patriarchal  peer  who  made  Susanna  so  happy  a  mother, 
died  in  1729,  leaving  her  a  dowager  of  forty,  with  a  good 
jointure.  Retiring  to  the  country,  she  employed  her  widow- 
liood  in  the  education  of  her  children,  and  was  considered  a 
perfect  example  to  all  mothers  in  this  useful  employment.  In 
our  days  of  freer  manners,  her  conduct  might  appear  too 
reserved.  The  young  were  taught  to  address  her  by  the  phrase 
'Your  ladyship;'  and  she  spoke  to  them  in  the  same  cere- 
monious style.  Though  her  eldest  son  was  a  mere  boy  when 
he  succeeded  to  the  title,  she  constantly  called  him  Lord 
Eglintoune ;  and  she  enjoined  all  the  rest  of  the  children  to 
address  him  in  the  same  manner.  When  the  earl  grew  up,  they 
were  upon  no  less  formal  terms ;  and  every  day  in  the  world  he 
took  his  mother  by  the  hand  at  the  dinner-hour,  and  led  her 
down  stairs  to  her  chair  at  the  head  of  his  table,  where  she  sat 
in  state,  a  perfect  specimen  of  the  stately  and  ostentatious 
politeness  of  the  last  age.  x 

All  this  ceremony  was  accompanied  with  so  much  affection, 
that  the  countess  was  never  known  to  refuse  her  son  a  request 
but  one — to  walk  as  a  peeress  at  the  coronation  of  King 
George  III.  Lord  Eglintoune,  then  a  gentleman  of  the  bed- 
chamber, was  proud  of  his  mother,  and  wished  to  display  her 
noble  figure  on  that  occasion.  But  she  jestingly  excused 
herself,  by  saying  that  it  was  not  worth  while  for  so  old  a 
woman  to  buy  new  robes. 

The  unhappy  fate  of  her  eldest  and  favourite  son — shot  by  a 
man  of  violent  passions,  whom  he  was  rashly  treating  as  a 
poacher  (1769) — gave  her  ladyship  a  dreadful  shock  in  her  old 
age.  The  earl,  after  receiving  the  fatal  wound,  was  brought  to 
Eglintoune  Castle,  when  his  mother  was  immediately  sent  for 
from  Auchans.     What  her  feelings  must  have  been  when  she 


SUSANNA,  COUNTESS   OF   EGLINTOUNE.  217 

saw  one  so  dear  to  her  thus  suddenly  struck  down  in  the  prime 
of  his  days,  may  be  imagined.  The  tenderness  he  displayed 
towards  her  and  others  in  his  last  hours,  is  said  to  have  been  to 
the  last  degree  noble  and  affecting. 

When  Johnson  and  Boswell  returned  from  their  tour  to  the 
Hebrides,  they  visited  Lady  Eglintoune  at  Auchans.  She  was 
so  well  pleased  with  the  doctor,  his  politics,  and  his  conversa- 
tion, that  she  embraced  and  kissed  him  at  parting,  an  honour  of 
which  the  gifted  tourist  was  ever  afterwards  extremely  proud. 
Boswell's  account  of  the  interview  is  interesting.  '  Lady  Eglin- 
toune,' says  he,  '  though  she  was  now  in  her  eighty-fifth  year, 
and  had  lived  in  the  country  almost  half  a  century,  was  still  a 
veiy  agreeable  woman.  Her  figure  was  majestic,  her  manners 
high-bred,  her  reading  extensive,  and  her  conversation  elegant. 
She  had  been  the  admiration  of  the  gay  circles,  and  the 
patroness  of  poets.  Dr  Johnson  was  delighted  with  his  recep- 
tion here.  Her  principles  in  church  and  state  were  congenial 
with  his.  In  the  course  of  conversation,  it  came  out  that  Lady 
Eglintoune  was  married  the  year  before  Dr  Johnson  was  born ; 
upon  which  she  graciously  said  to  him  that  she  might  have  been 
his  mother,  and  she  now  adopted  him.' 

This  venerable  woman  amused  herself  latterly  in  taming  and 
patronising  rats.  She  kept  a  vast  number  of  these  animals  in 
her  pay  at  Auchans,  and  they  succeeded  in  her  affections  to  the 
poets  and  artists  whom  she  had  loved  in  early  life.  It  does  not 
reflect  much  credit  upon  the  latter,  that  her  ladyship  used  to 
complain  of  never  having  met  with  true  gratitude  except  from 
four-footed  animals.  She  had  a  panel  in  the  oak  wainscot  of 
her  dining-room,  which  she  tapped  upon  and  opened  at  meal-, 
times,  when  ten  or  twelve  jolly  rats  came  tripping  forth,  and 
joined  her  at  table.  At  the  word  of  command,  or  a  signal  from 
her  ladyship,  they  retired  again  obediently  to  their  native 
obscurity — a  trait  of  good  sense  in  the  character  and  habits  of 
the  animals,  which,  it  is  hardly  necessary  to  remark,  patrons  do 
not  always  find  in  two-legged  proteges. 

Her  ladyship  died  in  1780,  at  the  age  of  ninety-one,  having 


2l8  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

preserved  her  stately  mien  and  beautiful  complexion  to  the  last. 
The  latter  was  a  mystery  of  fineness  to  many  ladies  not  the 
third  of  her  age.  As  her  secret  may  be  of  service  to  modern 
beauties,  I  shall,  in  kindness  to  the  sex,  divulge  it.  She  never 
used  paint,  but  washed  her  face  periodically  with  sow's  milk  !  I 
have  seen  a  portrait,  taken  in  her  eighty-first  year,  in  which  it  is 
observable  that  her  skin  is  of  exquisite  delicacy  and  tint. 
Altogether,  the  countess  was  a  woman  of  ten  thousand  ! 

The  jointure-house  of  this  fine  old  country-gentlewoman — 
Auchans  Castle,  a  capital  specimen  of  the  Scottish  manor-house 
of  the  seventeenth  century,  situated  near  Irvine — is  now 
uninhabited,  and  the  handsome  wainscoted  rooms  in  which 
she  entertained  Johnson  and  Boswell  are  fast  hastening  to 
decay.  One  last  trait  may  now  be  recorded :  in  her'ladyship's 
bedroom  at  this  place  was  hung  a  portrait  of  her  sovereign  de 
jure,  the  ill-starred  Charles  Edward,  so  situated  as  to  be  the  first 
object  which  met  her  sight  on  awaking  in  the  morning. 


FEMALE    DRESSES    OF    LAST    CENTURY. 

Ladies  in  the  last  century  wore  dresses  and  decorations,  many 
of  which  were  of  an  inconvenient  nature ;  yet  no  one  can  deny 
them  the  merit  of  a  certain  dignity  and  grace.  How  fine  it 
must  have  been  to  see,  as  an  old  gentleman  told  me  he  had 
seen,  two  hooped  ladies  moving  along  the  Lawnmarket  in  a 
summer  evening,  and  filling  up  the  whole  footway  with  their 
stately  and  voluminous  persons  ! 

Amongst  female  articles  of  attire  in  those  days  were  calashes, 
bongraces,  capuchins,  negligees,  stomachers,  stays,  hoops,  lap- 
pets, pinners,  plaids,  fans,  busks,  rumple-knots,  &c.,  all  of  them 
now  forgotten. 

The  calash  was  a  species  of  hood,  constructed  of  silk  upon 
a  framework  of  cane,  and  was  used  as  a  protection  to  a  cap  or 


FEMALE   DRESSES   OF   LAST   CENTURY.  219 

head-dress,  in  walking  out  or  riding  in  a  Carriage.  It  could  be 
folded  back  like  the  hood  of  a  carriage,  so  as  to  lie  gathered 
together  behind  the  neck. 

The  bongrace  was  a  bonnet  of  silk  and  cane,  in  shape  some- 
what like  a  modern  bonnet. 

The  capuchin  was  a  short  cloak,  reaching  not  below  the 
elbows.  It  was  of  silk,  edged  with  lace,  or  of  velvet.  Gentle- 
men also  wore  capuchins.  The  first  Sir  William  Forbes  fre- 
quently appeared  at  the  Cross  in  one.  A  lady's  mode  tippet  was 
nearly  the  same  piece  of  dress. 

The  negligee  was  a  gown,  projecting  in  loose  and  ample  folds 
from  the  back.  It  could  only  be  worn  with  stays.  It  was 
entirely  open  in  front,  so  as  to  shew  the  stomacher,  across  which 
it  was  laced  with  flat  silk  cords,  while  below  it  opened  more 
widely,  and  shewed  the  petticoat.  This  latter,  though  shorter, 
was  sometimes  more  splendid  than  the  gown,  and  had  a  deep 
flounce.  Ladies,  in  walking,  generally  carried  the  skirt  of  the 
gown  over  the  arm,  and  exhibited  the  petticoat ;  but  when  they 
entered  a  room,  they  always  came  sailing  in,  with  the  train 
sweeping  full  and  majestically  behind  them. 

The  stomacher  was  a  triangular  piece  of  rich  silk,  one  corner 
pointing  downwards,  and  joining  the  fine  black  lace-bordered 
apron,  while  the  other  two  angles  pointed  to  the  shoulders. 
Great  pains  were  usually  discovered  in  the  adornment  of  this 
beautiful  and  most  attractive  piece  of  dress.  Many  wore  jewels 
upon  it ;  and  a  lady  would  have  thought  herself  poor  indeed,  if 
she  co'uld  not  bedizen  it  with  strings  of  bugles  or  tinsel. 

Stays  were  made  so  long  as  to  touch  the  chair,  both  in  front 
and  rear,  when  a  lady  sat.  They  were  calculated  to  fit  so 
tightly,  that  the  wearers  had  to  hold  by  the  bedpost  while  the 
maid  was  lacing  them.  There  is  a  story  told  of  a  lady  of  high 
rank  in  Scotland,  about  1720,  which  gives  us  a  strange  idea  of 
the  rigours  and  inconvenience  of  this  fashion.  She  stinted  her 
daughters  as  to  diet,  with  a  view  to  the  improvement  of  their 
shapes ;  but  the  young  ladies,  having  the  cook  in  their  interest, 
used  to  unlace  their  stays  at  night,  after  her  ladyship  went  to 

o 


220  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

bed,  and  make  a  hearty  meal.  They  were  at  last  discovered, 
by  the  smell  of  a  roast  goose,  carried  upstairs  to  their  bed- 
chamber; as  unluckily  their  lady-mother  did  not  take  snuff,* 
and  was  not  asleep. 

'  The  hoop  was  contemporary  with,  and  a  necessary  appendage 
of,  the  stays.  There  were  different  species  of  hoops,  being  of 
various  shapes  and  uses.  The  pocket-hoop,  worn  in  the  morn- 
ing, was  like  a  pair  of  small  panniers,  such  as  one  sees  on  an 
ass.  The  bell-hoop  was  a  sort  of  petticoat,  shaped  like  a  bell, 
and  made  with  cane  or  rope  for  framework.  This  was  not 
quite  full  dress.  There  was  also  a  straw  petticoat,  a  species  of 
hoop  such  as  is  so  common  in  French  prints.  The  full-sized 
evening  hoop  was  so  monstrous,  that  people  saw  one-half  of  it 
enter  the  room  before  the  wearer.  This  was  very  inconvenient 
in  the  Old  Town,  where  doorways  and  closes  were  naiTOw.  In 
going  down  a  close  or  a  turnpike-stair,  ladies  tilted  them  up, 
and  carried  them  under  their  arms.  In  case  of  this  happening, 
there  was  a  show  petticoat  below ;  and  such  care  was  taken  of 
appearances,  that  even  the  garters  were  worn  fine,  being  either 
embroidered,  or  having  gold  and  silver  fringes  and  tassels. 

The  French  silks  worn  during  the  last  century  were  beautiful, 
the  patterns  were  so  well  drawn,  and  the  stuff  of  such  excellent 
quality.  The  dearest  common  brocade  was  about  a  guinea  a 
yard ;  if  with  gold  or  silver,  considerably  more. 

The  lappet  was  a  piece  of  Brussels  or  point  lace,  hanging  in 
two  pieces  from  the  crown  of  the  head,  and  streaming  gracefully 
behind. 

Pinners,  such  as  the  celebrated  Egyptian  Sphinx  wears,  were 
pinned  down  the  stomacher. 

Plaids  were  worn  by  ladies  to  cover  their  heads  and  muffle 
their  faces  when  they  went  into  the  street.     The  council  records 

*  SnufF-taking  was  prevalent  among  young  women  in  our  grandmothers'  time.  Their 
flirts  used  to  present  them  with  pretty  snuff-boxes.  In  one  of  the  monthly  numbers  of  the 
Scots  lilagazine  for  the  year  1745,  there  is  a  satirical  poem  upon  the  practice  of  snuff-taking, 
by  a  swain  ;  to  which  a  lady  replies  next  month,  defending  the  fashion  as  elegant,  and  of 
some  account  in  coquetry.  Almost  all  the  old  ladies  who  survived  the  commencement  of 
this  century  took  snuff.  Some  kept  it  in  pouches,  and  abandoned,  for  its  sake,  the  wearing 
of  white  ruffles  and  handkerchiefs. 


FEMALE   DRESSES   OF   LAST  CENTURY.  221 

of  Edinburgh  abound  in  edicts  against  the  use  of  this  piece  of 
dress,  which,  they  said,  confounded  decent  women  with  those 
who  were  the  contrary. 

Fans  were  large,  the  sticks  curiously  carved,  and  if  of  leather, 
generally  very  well  painted — being  imported  from  Italy  or 
Holland.  In  later  times,  these  have  been  sometimes  framed 
like  pictures,  and  hung  on  the  walls. 

All  women,  high  and  low,  wore  enormous  busks,  generally 
with  a  heart. carved  at  the  upper  end.  In  low  life,  this  was  a 
common  present  to  sweethearts ;  if  from  carpenters,  they  were 
artificially  veneered. 

The  rumple-knot  was  a  large  bunch  of  ribbons  worn  at  the 
peak  of  the  waist  behind.  Knots  of  ribbons  were  then  numerous 
over  the  whole  body.  There  were  the  breast-knots,  two  hainch- 
knots  (at  which  there  were  also  buttons  for  looping  up  the  gown 
behind),  a  knot  at  the  tying  of  the  beads  behind  the  neck,  one 
in  front,  and  another  at  the  back  of  the  head-gear,  and  knots 
upon  the  shoes.  It  took  about  twelve  yards  or  upwards  to  make 
a  full  suit  of  ribbons.* 

Other  minor  articles  of  dress  and  adornment  were  the  befong 
handkerchief  (spelt  at  random),  of  a  stuff  similar  to  what  is  now 
called  nef,  crossed  upon  the  breast;  paste  ear-rings  and  necklace; 
broad  black  bracelets  at  the  wrists;  z.^ongpong — a  jewel  fixed 
to  a  wire  with  a  long  pin  at  the  end,  worn  in  front  of  the  cap, 
and  which  shook  as  the  wearer  moved.  It  was  generally  stuck 
in  the  cushion,  over  which  the  hair  was  turned  in  front.  Several 
were  frequently  worn  at  once.  A  song  in  the  Charmer,  1751, 
alludes  to  this  bijou  : 

'  Come  all  ye  young  ladies  whose  business  and  care 
Is  contriving  new  dresses,  and  curling  your  hair  ; 
Who  flirt  and  coquet  with  each  coxcomb  who  comes 
To  toy  at  your  toilets,  and  strut  in  your  rooms  ; 
While  you  're  plaaitng  a  patch,  or  adjusting pottg  fongy 
Ye  may  listen  and  learn  by  the  truth  of  my  song.' 

Fly-caps,  encircling  the  head,  worn  by  young  matrons,  and  mob- 

*  A  gown  then  required  ten  yards  of  stuff. 


222  TRADITIONS    OF   EDINBURGH. 

caps,  falling  down  over  the  ears,  used  only  by  old  ones ;  pockets 
of  silk  or  satin,  of  which  young  girls  wore  one  above  their  other 
attire ;  silk  or  linen  stockings — never  of  cotton,  which  is  a 
modern  stuff — slashed  with  pieces  of  a  colour  in  strong  contrast 
with  the  rest,  or  gold  or  silver  clocks,  wove  in.  The  silk  stock- 
ings were  very  thick,  and  could  not  be  washed  on  account  of 
the  gold  or  silver.  They  were  frequently  of  scarlet  silk,  and 
(1733)  worn  both  by  ladies  and  gentlemen.  High-heeled  shoes, 
set  off  with  fine  lace  or  sewed  work,  and  sharply  pointed  in 
front. 

To  give  the  reader  a  more  picturesque  idea  of  the  former 
dresses  of  the  ladies  of  Edinburgh,  I  cite  a  couple  of  songs,  the 
first  wholly  old,  the  second  a  revivification  : 

'  I  '11  gar  our  guidman  trow  that  I  '11  sell  the  ladle, 
If  he  winna  buy  to  me  a  new  side-saddle — 

To  ride  to  the  kirk,  and  frae  the  kirk,  and  round  about  the  toun — 
Stand  about,  ye  fisher  jades,  and  gi'e  my  goun  room  ! 

I  '11  gar  our  guidman  trow  that  I  '11  tak  the  fling-strings, 
If  he  winna  buy  to  me  twelve  bonnie  goud  rings, 
Ane  for  ilka  finger,  and  twa  for  ilka  thumb — 
Stand  about,  ye  fisher  jades,  and  gi'e  my  goun  room  ! 

I  '11  gar  our  guidman  trow  that  I  'm  gaun  to  dee, 

If  he  winna  fee  to  me  twa  valets  or  three, 

To  beir  my  tail  up  frae  the  dirt  and  ush  me  through  the  toun — 

Stand  about,  ye  fisher  jades,  and  gi'e  my  goun  room  !' 


'  As  Mally  Lee  cam'  down  the  street,  her  capuchin  did  flee  ; 
She  coost  a  look  behind  her,  to  see  her  negligee. 

And  we  're  a'  gaun  east  and  wast,  we  're  a'  gaun  agee, 
We  're  a'  gaun  east  and  wast,  courtin'  Mally  Lee.* 

She  had  twa  lappets  at  her  head,  that  flaunted  gallantlie, 
And  ribbon  knots  at  back  and  breast  of  bonnie  Mally  Lee. 
And  we  're  a'  gaun,  &c. 

•  This  verse  appears  in  a  manuscript  subsequent  to  1760.  The  name,  however,  is  Sleigh, 
not  Lee.  Mrs  Mally  Sleigh  was  married  in  1725  to  the  Lord  Lyon  Brodie  of  Brodie. 
Allan  Ramsay  celebrates  her. 


LORD   JUSTICE-CLERK   ALVA.  223 

A'  down  alang  the  Canongate  were  beaux  o'  ilk  degree.; 
And  mony  ane  turned  round  to  look  at  bonnie  Mally  Lee. 
And  we  're  a'  gaun,  &c. 

And  ilka  bab  her  pong p07tg  gi'ed,  ilk  lad  thought  that 's  to  nle  ; 
But  feint  a  ane  was  in  the  thought  of  bonnie  Mally  Lee. 
And  we  're  a'  gaun,  &c. 

Frae  Seton's  Land  a  countess  fair  looked  owre  a  window  hie, 
And  pined  to  see  the  genty  shape  of  bonnie  Mally  Lee. 
And  we  're  a'  gaun,  &c. 

And  when  she  reached  the  palace  porch,  there  lounged  erls  three  j 
And  ilk  ane  thought  his  Kate  or  Meg  a  drab  to  Mally  Lee. 
And  we  're  a'  gaun,  &c. 

The  dance  gaed  through  the  palace  ha',  a  comely  sight  to  see ; 
But  nane  was  there  sae  bright  or  braw  as  bonny  Mally  Lee. 
And  we  're  a'  gaun,  &c. 

Though  some  had  jewels  in  their  hair,  like  stars  'mang  cluds  did  shine. 
Yet  Mally  did  surpass  them  a'  wi'  but  her  glancin'  eyne. 
And  we  're  a'  gaun,  &c. 

A  prince  cam'  out  frae  'mang  them  a',  wi'  garter  at  his  knee, 
And  danced  a  stately  minuet  wi'  bonnie  Mally  Lee. 
And  we  're  a'  gaun,  &c' 


THE    LORD    JUSTICE-CLERK    ALVA. 

Ladies  Sutherland  and  Glenorchy — The  Pin  or  Risp. 

This  eminent  person — a  cadet  of  the  ancient  house  of  Mar 
(bom  1680,  died  1763) — had  his  town  mansion  in  an  obscure 
recess  of  the  High  Street  called  Mylne  Square,  the  first  place 
bearing  such  a  designation  in  our  northern  capital :  it  was,  I 
may  remark,  built  by  one  of  a  family  of  Mylnes,  who  are  said 
to  have  been  master-masons  to  the  Scottish  monarchs  for  eight 
generations,  and  some  of  whom  are  at  this  day  architects  by 
profession.     Lord  Alva's  residence  was  in  the  second  and  third 


224  TRADITIONS   OF  EDINBURGH. 

floors  of  the  large  building,  on  the  west  side  of  the  square.  Of 
the  same  structure,  an  Earl  of  Northesk  occupied  another JIat 
And,  to  mark  the  character  of  Lord  Alva's  abode,  part  of  it 
was  afterwards  in  the  hands  of  a  Mrs  Reynolds,  used  as  a  lodging- 
house  of  the  highest  grade.  The  Earl  of  Hopetoun,  while 
acting  as  commissioner  to  the  General  Assembly,  there  held 
vice-regal  state.  But  to  return  to  Lord  Alva :  it  gives  a  curious 
idea  of  the  habits  of  such  a  dignitary  before  the  rise  of  the  New 
Town,  that  we  should  find  him  content  with  this  dwelling,  while 
in  immediate  attendance  upon  the  court,  and  happy,  during  the 
summer  vacation,  to  withdraw  to  the  shades  of  his  little  villa  at 
Drumsheugh,  standing  on  a  spot  now  surrounded  by  town. 
Lord  Lovat,  who,  on  account  of  his  numerous  law-pleas,  was  a 
great  intimate  of  Lord  Alva's,  frequently  visited  him  here ;  and 
Mrs  Campbell  of  Monzie,  Lord  Alva's  daughter,  used  to  tell, 
that  when  she  met  Lord  Lovat  on  the  stair,  he  always  took  her 
up  in  his  arms  and  kissed  her,  to  her  great  aimoyance  and 
horror — /le  was  so  ugly.  During  one  of  his  law-pleas,  he  went 
to  a  dancing-school  ball,  which  Misses  Jean  and  Susanna,  Lord 
Alva's  daughters,  attended.  He  had  his  pocket  full  of  sweeties, 
as  Mrs  Campbell  expressed  it;  and  so  far  did  he  carry  his 
exquisitely  refined  system  of  cunning,  that — in  order  no  doubt 
to  find  favour  with  their  father — he  devoted  the  greater  share  of 
his  attentions,  and  the  whole  of  his  comfits,  to  them  alone. 
Those  who  knew  this  singular  man  used  to  say,  that  with  all  his 
duplicity,  faithlessness,  and  cruelty,  his  character  exhibited  no 
redeeming  trait  whatever :  nobody  ever  knew  any  good  of  him. 

In  his  Mylne  Square  mansion,  Lord  Alva's  two  step-daughters 
were  married ;  one  to  become  Countess  of  Sutherland,  the  other 
Lady  Glenorchy.  There  was  something  very  striking  in  the 
fate  of  Lady  Sutherland,  and  of  the  earl  her  husband — a  couple 
distinguished  as  much  by  personal  elegance  and  amiable 
character  as  by  lofty  rank.  Lady  Sutherland  was  blessed  with 
a  temper  of  extraordinary  sweetness,  which  shone  in  a  face  of  so 
much  beauty,  as  to  have  occasioned  admiration  where  many 
were  beautiful — the  coronation  of  George  III.  and  his  queen. 


COUNTESS  OF  SUTHERLAND,  22$ 

The  happiness  of  the  young  pair  had  been  increased  by  the 
birth  of  a  daughter.  One  unlucky  day,  his  lordship  coming 
after  dinner  into  the  drawing-room  at  Dunrobin,  a  little  flushed 
with  wine,  lifted  up  the  infant  above  his  head,  by  way  of  frolic, 
when,  sad  to  tell,  he  dropped  her  by  accident  on  the  floor,  and 
she  received  injuries  from  which  she  never  recovered.  This 
incident  had  such  an  effect  upon  his  lordship's  spirits,  that  his 
health  became  seriously  affected,  so  as  finally  to  require  a 
journey  to  Bath,  where  he  was  seized  with  an  infectious  fever. 
For  twenty-one  successive  days  and  nights  he  was  attended  by 
his  wife,  then  pregnant,  till  she  herself  caught  the  fatal  dis- 
temper. The  countess's  death  was  concealed  from  his  lordship ; 
nevertheless,  when  his  delirium  left  him,  the  day  before  he  died, 
he  frequently  said:  '  I  am  going  to  join  my  dear  wife ;'  appearing 
to  know  that  she  had  '  alre_ady  reached  the  goal  with  mended 
pace  ! '  Can  it  be  that  we  are  sometimes  able  to  penetrate  the 
veil  which  hangs,  in  thick  and  gloomy  folds,  between  this  world 
and  the  next ;  or  does  the  '  mortal  coil '  in  which  the  light  of 
mind  is  enveloped,  become  thinner  and  more  transparent  by  the 
wearing  of  deadly  sickness?  The  bodies  of  the  earl  and 
countess  were  brought  to  Holyrood  House,  where  they  had 
usually  resided  when  in  town,  and  lay  in  state  for  some  time 
previous  to  their  interment  in  one  grave  in  the  Abbey  chapel. 
The  death  of  a  pair  so  young,  so  good,  and  who  had  stood  in  so 
distinguished  a  position  in  society — leaving  one  female  infant  to 
a  disputed  title — made  a  deep  impression  on  the  public,  and 
was  sincerely  lamented  in  their  own  immediate  circle.  Of  much 
poetry  written  on  the  occasion,  a  specimen  may  be  seen  in 
Evans's  Old  Ballads.  Another  appears  in  Brydges's  Censicra 
Literaria,  being  the  composition  of  Sir  Gilbert  EUiot  of  Minto, 

*  In  pity,  Heaven  bestowed 
An  early  doom :  lo,  on  the  self-same  bier, 
A  fairer  form,  cold  by  her  husband's  side, 
And  faded  every  charm.     She  died  for  thee, 
For  thee,  her  only  love.     In  beauty's  prime, 
In  youth's  triumphant  hour,  she  died  for  thee. 


226  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

Bring  water  from  the  brook,  and  roses  spread 
O'er  their  pale  limbs  ;  for  ne'er  did  wedded  love 
To  one  sad  grave  consign  a  lovelier  pair, 
Of  manners  gentler,  or  of  purer  heart !  * 

Lady  Glenorchy,  the  younger  sister  of  Lady  Sutherland,  was 
remarkable  for  her  pious  disposition.  Exceedingly  unfortunate 
in  her  marriage,  she  was  early  taught  to  seek  consolation  from 
things  '  not  of  this  world.'  I  have  been  told  that  nothing  could 
have  been  more  striking  than  to  hear  this  young  and  beautiful 
creature  pouring  forth  her  melodious  notes  and  hymns,  while 
most  of  her  sex  and  age  at  that  time  exercised  their  voices  only 
upon  the  wretched  lyrics  imported  from  Vauxhall  and  Ranelagh, 
or  the  questionable  verses  of  Ramsay  and  his  contemporaries. 
She  met  with  her  rich  reward,  even  in  this  world;  for  she 
enjoyed  the  applause  of  the  wealthy,  and  the  blessings  of  the 
poor,  with  that  supreme  of  all  pleasures — the  conviction  that  the 
eternal  v/elfare  of  those  in  whose  fate  she  was  chiefly  interested 
was  forwarded,  if  not  perfected,  by  her  precepts  and  example. 

It  is  not  unworthy  of  notice,  in  this  record  of  all  that  is  old 
and  quaint  in  our  city,  that  the  Lord  Justice-clerk's  house  was 
provided  with  z.  j>in  or  risp,  instead  of  the  more  modern  con- 
venience— a  knocker.  The  Scottish  ballads,  in  numberless 
passages,  make  reference  to  this  article :  no  hero  in  those 
compositions  ever  comes  to  his  mistress's  door,  but  he  tirks  at 
the  pin.  What,  then,  was  a  pin  ?  It  was  a  small  slip  or  bar  of 
iron,  starting  out  from  the  door  vertically,  serrated  on  the  side 
towards  the  door,  and  provided  with  a  small  ring,  which,  being 
drawn  roughly  along  the  serrations  or  nicks,  produced  a  harsh 
and  grating  sound,  to  summon  the  servant  to  open.  Another 
term  for  the  article  was  a  crow.  In  the  fourth  eclogue  of 
Edward  Fairfax,  a  production  of  the  reign  of  James  VI.  and  I., 
quoted  in  the  Muses'  Library,  is  this  passage : 

*  Now,  farewell  Eglon  !  for  the  sun  stoops  low, 
And  calling  guests  before  my  sheep-cot's  door ; 
Now  clad  in  white,  I  see  my  porter-croiv  ; 
Great  kings  oft  want  these  blessings  of  th?  poor  : ' 


PINS   OR   RISPS.  227 

with  the  following  note :  '  The  ring  of  the  door,  called  a  crow, 
and  when  covered  with  white  linen,  denoted  the  mistress  of  the 
house  was  in  travel.'  It  is  quite  appropriate  to  this  explanation 
that  a  small  Latin  vocabulary,  published  by  Andrew  Simpson  in 
•  1702,  places  among  the  parts  of  a  house,  '  Corvex — a  clapper  or 
ringlet     Hardly  one  specimen  of  the  pin,  crow,  or  ringle  now 


Old  Risps. 

survives  in  the  Old  Town.  They  were  almost  all  disused  many 
years  ago,  when  knockers  were  generally  substituted  as  more 
stylish.  Knockers  at  that  time  did  not  long  remain  in  repute, 
though  they  have  never  been  altogether  superseded,  even  by 
bells,  in  the  Old  Town.  The  comparative  merit  of  knockers 
and  pins  was  for  a  long  time  a  controversial  point,  and  many 
knockers  got  their  heads  twisted  off  in  the  course  of  the  dispute. 
Pins  were,  upon  the  whole,  considered  very  inoffensive,  decent, 
old-fashioned  things,  being  made  of  a  modest  metal,  and 
making  little  show  upon  a  door ;  knockers  were  thought  upstart, 
prominent,  brazen-faced  articles,  and  received  the  full  share  of 
odium  always  conferred  by  Scotsmen  of  the  old  school  upon 
tasteful  improvements.     Every  drunken  fellow,  in  reeling  home 


228  /  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

at  night,  thought  it  good  sport  to  carry  oflf  all  the  knockers  that 
came  in  his  way;  and  as  drunken  gentlemen  were  very 
numerous,  many  acts  of  violence  were  committed,  and  some- 
times a  whole  stair  was  found  stripped  of  its  knockers  in  the 
morning ;  when  the  voice  of  lamentation  raised  by  the  servants 
of  the  sufferers,  might  have  reminded  one  of  the  wailings  of 
the  Lennox  dairy-women  after  a  creagh  in  the  days  of  old. 
Knockers  were  frequently  used  as  missile  weapons  by  the  bucks 
of  that  day  against  the  Town-guard ;  and  the  morning  sun  some- 
times saw  the  High  Street  strewed  with  them.  The  aforesaid 
Mrs  Campbell  remembered  residing  in  an  Old-town  house, 
which  was  one  night  disturbed  in  the  most  intolerable  manner 
by  a  drunken  party  kt  the  knocker.  In  the  morning,  the 
greater  part  of  it  was  found  to  be  gone;  and  it  was  besides 
discovered,  to  the  horror  of  the  inmates,  that  part  of  a  finger 
was  left  sticking  in  the  fragments,  with  the  appearance  of  having 
been  forcibly  wrenched  from  the  hand. 


MARLIN'S   AND    NIDDRY'S-  WYNDS. 

Tradition  of  Marlin  the  Pavier — House  of  Provost  Edward — Story  of  Lady 

Grange. 

Where  South  Bridge  Street  now  stands,  there  formerly  existed 
two  wynds,  or  alleys  of  the  better  class,  named  Marlin's  and 
Niddry's  W)mds.  Many  persons  of  importance  lived  in  these 
obscurities.  Marlin's  Wynd,  which  extended  from  behind  the 
Tron  Church,  and  contained  several  bookshops  and  stalls,  the 
favourite  lounge  of  the  lovers  of  old  literature,  was  connected 
with  a  curious  tradition,  which  existed  at  the  time  when  Mait- 
land  wrote  his  History  of  Edinburgh  (1753).  It  was  said  that 
the  High  Street  was  first  paved  or  causewayed  by  one  Marlin,  a 


NIDDRYS  WYND.  229 

Frenchman,  who,  thinking  that  specimen  of  his  ingenuity  the 
best  monument  he  could  have,  desired  to  be  buried  under  it, 
and  was  accordingly  interred  at  the  head  of  this  wynd,  which 
derived  its  name  from  him.  The  tradition  is  so  far  countenanced, 
by  there  having  formerly  been  a  space  in  the  pavement  at  this 
spot,  marked  by  six  flat  stones,  in  the  shape  of  a  grave. 
According,  however,  to  more  authentic  information,  the  High 
Street  was  first  paved  in  1532  *  by  John  and  Bartoulme  Foliot, 
who  appear  to  have  had  nothing  in  common  with  this  legendary 
Marlin,  except  country.  The  grave  of  at  least  Bartoulme  Foliot 
is  distinctly  marked  by  a  flat  monument  in  the  Chapel-Royal  at 
Holyrood  House.  It  is  possible,  nevertheless,  that  Marlin  may 
have  been  the  more  immediate  executor  or  superintendent  of 
the  work, 

Niddry's  Wynd  abounded  in  curious  antique  houses,  many  of 
which  had  been  the  residences  of  remarkable  persons.  The 
most  interesting  bit  was  a  paved  court,  about  half-way  down,  on 
the  west  side,  called  Lockhart's  Court,  from  its  having  latterly 
been  the  residence  of  the  family  of  Lockhart  of  Carnwath.t 
This  was,  in  reality,  a  quadrangular  palace,  the  whole  being  of 
elegant  old  architecture  in  one  design,  and  accessible  by  a  deep 
arched  gateway.  It  was  built  by  Nicol  Edward  or  Udward,  who 
was  provost  of  Edinburgh  in  1591 ;  a  wealthy  citizen,  and  styled 
in  his  writts,  'of  old  descent  in  the  burgh.'     On  a  mantel-piece 

*  The  Cauongate  seems  to  have  been  paved  about  the  same  time.  In  1535,  the  king 
granted  to  the  Abbot  of  Holyrood  a  duty  of  one  pemiy  upon  every  loaded  cart,  and  a  half- 
penny upon  every  empty  one,  to  repair  and  maintain  the  causeway. 

t  George  Lockhart  of  Carnwath  lived  here  in  1733.  Afterwards  he  resided  in  Ross 
House,  a  suburban  mansion,  which  afterwards  was  used  as  a  lying-in  hospital.  The  park 
connected  with  this  house  is  now  occupied  by  George  Square.  While  in  Mr  Lockhart's 
possession,  Ross  House  was  the  scene  of  many  gay  routs  and  balls. 

The  Lords  Ross,  the  original  proprietors  of  this  mansion,  died  out  in  1754.  One  of  the 
last  persons  in  Scotland  supposed  to  be  possessed  by  an  evil  spirit  was  a  daughter  of 
George,  the  second  last  lord.  A  correspondent  says  :  '  A  person  alive  in  1824  told  me  that, 
when  a  child,  he  saw  her  clamber  up  to  the  top  of  an  old-fashioned  four-post  bed  like  a  cat. 
In  her  fits  it  was  almost  impossible  to  hold  her.  About  the  same  time,  a  daughter  of  Lord 
Kinnaird  was  supposed  to  have  the  second-sight.  One  day,  during  divine  worship  in  the 
High  Church,  she  fainted  away ;  on  her  recovery,  she  declared  that  when  Lady  Janet 
Dundas  (a  daughter  of  Lord  Lauderdale)  entered  the  pew  with  Miss  Dundas,  who  was  a 
beautiful  young  girl,  she  saw  the  latter  as  it  were  in  a  shroud  gathered  round  her  neck,  and 
upon  her  head.     Miss  Dundas  died  a  short  time  after.' 


230  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

within  the  house  his  arms  were  carved,  along  with  an  anagram 
upon  his  name  : 

VA  D'uN  vol  a  CHRIST — 

Go  with  one  flight  to  Christ;  which,  the  reader  will  find,  can 
only  be  made  out  by  Latinising  his  name  into  Nicholaus 
Eduartus.  We  learn  from  Moyses's  Memoirs  that,  in  January 
1591,  this  house  was  the  temporary  residence  of  James  VI.  and 
his  queen,  then  recently  arrived  from  Denmark ;  and  that,  on 
the  7th  of  February,  the  Earl  of  Huntly  passed  hence,  out  of 
the  immediate  royal  presence,  when  he  went  to  murder  the 
Bonny  Earl  of  Moray  at  Donibrissle ;  which  caused  a  suspicion 
that  his  majesty  was  concerned  in  that  horrid  outburst  of  feudal 
hate.  Lockhart's  Court  was  latterly  divided  into  several  distinct 
habitations,  one  of  which,  on  the  north  side  of  the  quadrangle, 
was  occupied  by  the  family  of  Bruce  of  Kinnaird,  the  celebrated 
traveller.  In  the  part  on  the  south  side,  occupied  by  the  Cam- 
wath  family,  there  was  a  mantel-piece  in  the  drawing-room  of 
magnificent  workmanship,  and  reaching  to  the  ceiling.  The 
whole  mansion,  even  in  its  reduced  state,  bore  an  appearance  of 
security  and  strength  which  spoke  of  other  times;  and  there 
was,  moreover,  a  profound  dungeoti  underground,  which  was 
only  accessible  by  a  secret  trap-door,  opening  through  the  floor 
of  a  small  closet,  the  most  remote  of  a  suite  of  rooms  extending 
along  the  south  and  west  sides  of  the  court.  Perhaps,  at  a  time 
when  to  be  rich  was  neither  so  common  nor  so  safe  as  now. 
Provost  Edward  might  conceal  his  hoards  in  this  massy  more. 

Alexander  Black  of  Balbirney,  who  was  provost  of  Edinburgh 
from  1579  to  1583,  had  a  house  at  the  head  of  the  wynd.  King 
James  lodged  in  this  house  on  the  i8th  of  August  1584,  and 
walked  from  it  in  state,  next  day,  to  hold  a  parliament  in  the 
Tolbooth.  Here  also  lodged  the  Chancellor  Thirlstain,  in 
January  1591,  while  the  king  and  queen  were  the  guests  of 
Nicol  Edward.*  It  must  be  understood  that  these  visits  of 
royalty  were  less  considered  in  the  light  of  an  honour,  than  of  a 
tax.     The  king  in  those  times  went  to  live  at  the  board  of  a 

*  Both  facts  from  Moyses's  Memoirs, 


STORY   OF   LADY   GRANGE.  23! 

wealthy  subject,  when  his  own  table  happened  to  be  scantily- 
furnished  ;  which  was  too  often  the  case  with  poor  King  James. 
On  the  east  side  of  the  wynd,  nearly  opposite  to  Lockhart's 
Court,  was  a  good  house,*  which,  early  in  the  last  century,  was 
possessed  by  James  Erskine  of  Grange,  best  known  by  his 
judicial  title  of  Lord  Grange,  and  the  brother  of  John,  Earl  of 
Mar.  This  gentleman  has  acquired  an  unhappy  notoriety,  in 
consequence  of  his  treatment  of  his  wife.  He  was  externally  a 
professor  of  ultra-evangelical  views  of  religion,  and  a  patron  of 
the  clergy  on  that  side,  yet,  in  his  private  life,  is  understood  to 
have  been  far  from  exemplary.  The  story  of  Lady  Grange,  as 
Mrs  Erskine  was  called,  had  a  character  of  romance  about  it 
which  has  prevented  it  from  being  forgotten.  It  also  reflects  a 
curious  light  upon  the  state  of  manners  in  Scotland  in  the  early 
part  of  the  eighteenth  century.  The  lady  was  a  daughter  of 
that  Chiesly  of  Dairy  whom  we  have  already  seen  led  by  an 
insane  violence  of  temper  to  commit  one  of  the  most  atrocious 
of  murders. 

STORY   OF   LADY   GRANGE.t 

Lord  and  Lady  Grange  had  been  married  upwards  of  twenty 
years,  and  had  had  several  children,  when,  in  1730,  a  separation 
was  determined  on  between  them.  It  is  usually  difficult  in 
such  cases  to  say  in  what  degree  the  parties  are  respectively 

*  In  the  house  to  the  north  of  this,  was  a  shop  kept  by  an  eccentric  personage,  who 
exhibited  a  sign  bearing  this  singular  inscription  : 

ORRA  THINGS   BOUGHT   AND   SOLD — 

which  signified  that  he  dealt  in  odd  articles,  such  as  a  single  shoebuckle,  one  of  a  pair  of 
skates,  a  teapot  wanting  a  lid,  or  perhaps,  as  often,  a  lid  minus  a  teapot ;  in  short,  any 
unpaired  article  which  is  not  to  be  got  in  the  shops  where  only  new  things  were  sold,  and 
which,  nevertheless,  are  now  and  then  as  indispensably  wanted  by  householders  as  any- 
thing else. 

t  The  present  article  is  almost  wholly  from  original  sources,  a  fact  probably  unknown  to 
a  contemporary  novelist,  who  has  made  it  the  groundwork  of  a  fiction  without  any 
acknowledgment.  Some  additional  particulars  may  be  found  in  Tales  of  tJie  Century,  by 
John  Sobieski  Stuart  (Edinburgh,  1846).  In  the  Spalding  Miscellany,  vol.  iii.,  are 
several  letters  of  Lord  Grange,  containing  allusions  to  his  wife  ;  and  a  production  of  his, 
which  has  been  printed  under  the  title  of  Diary  of  a  Senator  of  the  College  of  Justice 
(Stevenson,  Edinburgh,  1833),  is  worthy  of  perusal. 


232  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

blamable ;  how  far  there  have  been  positive  faults  on  one  side, 
and  want  of  forbearance  on  the  other,  and  so  forth.  If  we  were  to 
beheve  the  lady  in  this  instance,  there  had  been  love  and  peace 
for  twenty  years,  when  at  length  Lord  Grange  took  a  sudden 
dislike  to  his  wife,  and  would  no  longer  live  with  her.  He,  on 
the  other  hand,  speaks  of  having  suffered  long  from  her  '  unsub- 
duable  rage  and  madness,'  and  of  having  failed  in  all  his  efforts 
to  bring  her  to  a  reasonable  conduct.  There  is  too  much  reason 
to  believe  that  the  latter  statement  is  in  the  main  true ;  although, 
were  it  more  so,  it  would  still  leave  Lord  Grange  unjustifiable  in 
the  measures  which  he  took  with  respect  to  his  wife.  It  is 
traditionally  stated  that,  in  their  unhappy  quarrels,  the  lady  did 
not  scruple  to  remind  her  husband  whose  daughter  she  was — 
thus  hinting  at  what  she  was  capable  of  doing  if  she  thought 
herself  deeply  aggrieved.  However  all  this  might  be,  in  the 
year  1730  a  separation  was  agreed  to  (with  great  reluctance  on 
the  part  of  the  lady),  his  lordship  consenting  to  give  her  a 
hundred  a  year  for  her  maintenance,  so  long  as  she  should 
continue  to  live  apart  from  him. 

After  spending  some  months  in  the  country.  Lady  Grange 
returned  to  Edinburgh,  and  took  a  lodging  near  her  husband's 
house,  for  the  purpose,  as_  she  tells  us,  of  endeavouring  to 
induce  him  to  take  her  back,  and  that  she  might  occasionally 
see  her  children.  According  to  Lord  Grange,  she  began  to 
torment  him  by  following  him  and  the  children  on  the  street  '  in 
a  scandalous  and  shameful  manner,'  and  coming  to  his  house, 
and  calling  reproaches  to  him  through  the  windows,*  especially 
when  there  was  company  with  him.  He  thus  writes  :  '  In  his 
house,  at  the  bottom  of  Niddry's  Wynd,  where  there  is  a  court 
through  which  one  enters  the  house,  one  time  among  others, 
when  it  was  full  of  chairs,  chairmen,  and  footmen,  who  attended 
the  company  that  were  with  himself,  or  his  sister  Lady  Jane 
Paterson,  then  keeping  house  together,  she  came  into  this  court, 
and  among  that  mob  shamelessly  cried  up  to  the  windows 
injurious  reproaches,  and  would  not  go  away,  though  entreated, 

*  Here  and  elsewhere  a  paper  in  Lord  Grange's  own  hand  is  quoted. 


STORY   OF  LADY   GRANGE.  233 

till,  hearing  the  late  Lord  Lovat's  voice,  who  was  visiting  Mr 

E ,  and  seeing  two  of  his  servants  among  the  other  footmen, 

"Oh,"  said  she,  "is  your  master  here?"  and  instantly  ran  off.' 
He  speaks  of  her  having  attacked  him  one  day  in  church ;  at 
another  time  she  forced  him  to  take  refuge  with  his  son  in  a 
tavern  for  two  hours.  She  even  threatened  to  assault  him  on 
the  bench,  'which  he  every  day  expected;  for  she  professed 
that  she  had  no  shame.' 

The  traditionary  account  of  Lady  Grange  represents  her  fate 
as  having  been  at  last  decided  by  her  threatening  to  expose  her 
husband  to  the  government  for  certain  treasonable  practices. 
It  would  now  appear  that  this  was  partially  true.  In  his  state- 
ment, Lord  Grange  tells  us  that  he  had  some  time  before  gone 
to  London,  to  arrange  the  private  affairs  of  the  Countess  of 
Mar,  then  become  unable  to  conduct  them  herself,  and  he  had 
sent  an  account  of  his  procedure  to  his  wife,  including  some 
reflections  on  a  certain  great  minister  (doubtless  Walpole),  who 
had  thwarted  him  much,  and  been  of  serious  detriment  to  the 
interests  of  his  family  in  this  matter.  This  document  she 
retained,  and  she  now  threatened  to  take  it  to  London,  and  use 
it  for  her  husband's  disadvantage,  being  supported  in  the  design 
by  several  persons  with  whom  she  associated.  While  denying 
that  he  had  been  concerned  in  anything  treasonable.  Lord 
Grange  says,  'he  had  already  too  great  a  load  of  that  great 
minister's  wrath  on  his  back  to  stand  still  and  see  more  of  it  fall 
upon  him  by  the  treachery  and  madness  of  such  a  wife  and  such 
worthy  confederates.'  The  lady  had  taken  a  seat  in  a  stage- 
coach for  London.*  Lord  Grange  caused  a  friend  to  go  and 
make  interest  to  get  her  money  returned,  and  the  seat  let  to 
another  person ;  in  which  odd  proceeding  he  was  successful. 
Thus  was  the  journey  stayed  for  the  meantime;  but  the  lady 
declared  her  resolution  to  go  as  soon  as  possible.  '  What,'  says 
Lord  Grange,  '  could  a  man  do  with  such  a  wife  ?    There  was 

*  '  Then,  and  some  time  before  and  after,  there  was  a  stage-coach  from  hence  to 
England.'  So  says  his  lordship;  implying  that,  in  1751,  when  he  was  .writing,  there  was 
no  such  public  conveniency  !    It  had  been  tried,  and  had  failed. 


234  TRADITIONS   OF  EDINBURGH. 

great  reason  to  think  she  would  daily  go  on  to  do  mischief  to 
her  family,  and  to  affront  and  bring  a  blot  on  her  children, 
especially  her  daughters.  There  were  things  that  could  not  be 
redressed  in  a  court  of  justice,  and  we  had  not  then  a  madhouse 
to  lock  such  unhappy  people  up  in.' 

The  result  of  his  lordship's  deliberations  was  a  plan  for  what 
he  calls  'sequestrating'  his  wife.  It  appears  to  have  been 
concerted  between  himself  and  a  number  of  Highland  chiefs, 
including,  above  all,  the  notorious  Lord  Lovat.  We  now  turn 
to  the  lady's  narrative,  which  proceeds  to  tell  that,  on  the 
evening  of  the  2 2d  of  January  1732,  a  party  of  Highlandmen, 
wearing  the  livery  of  Lord  Lovat,  made  their  way  into  her 
lodgings,  and  forcibly  seized  her,  throwing  her  down  and 
gagging  her,  then  tying  a  cloth  over  her  head,  and  carrying  her 
off  as  if  she  had  been  a  corpse.  At  the  bottom  of  the  stair  was 
a  chair  containing  a  man,  who  took  the  hapless  lady  upon  his 
knees,  and  held  her  fast  in  his  arms  till  they  had  got  to  a  place 
in  the  outskirts  of  the  town.  Then  they  took  her  from  the 
chair,  removed  the  cloth  from  her  head,  and  mounted  her  upon 
a  horse  behind  a  man,  to  whom  she  was  tied ;  after  which  the 
party  rode  off  'by  the  lee  light  of  the  moon,'  to  quote  the 
language  of  the  old  ballads,  whose  incidents  the  present 
resembles  in  character. 

The  treatment  of  the  lady  by  the  way  was,  if  we  can  believe 
her  own  account,  by  no  means  gentle.  The  leader,  although  a 
gentleman  (Mr  Forster  of  Corsebonny),  disregarded  her  entreaties 
to  be  allowed  to  stop  on  account  of  cramp  in  her  side,  and  only 
answered  by  ordering  a  servant  to  renew  the  bandages  over  her 
mouth.  She  observed  that  they  rode  along  the  Long  Way 
(whe^e  Princes  Street  now  stands),  past  the  castle,  and  so  to 
the  Linlithgow  road.  After  a  ride  of  nearly  twenty  miles,  they 
stopped  at  Muiravonside,  the  house  of  Mr  John  Macleod, 
advocate,  where  servants  appeared  waiting  to  receive  the  lady 
— and  thus  shewed  that  the  master  of  the  house  had  been 
engaged  to  aid  in  her  abduction.  She  was  taken  up  stairs  to  a 
comfortable  bedroom ;  but  a  man  being  posted  in  the  room  as 


STORY   OF   LADY   GRANGE.  235 

a  guard,  she  could  not  go  to  bed,  nor  take  any  repose.  Thus 
she  spent  the  ensuing  day,  and  when  it  was  night,  she  was  taken 
out  and  remounted  in  the  same  fashion  as  before;  and  the 
party  then  rode  along  through  the  Torvvood,  and  so  to  the  place 
called  Wester  Polmaise,  belonging  to  a  gentleman  of  the  name 
of  Stewart,  whose  steward  or  factor  was  one  of  the  cavalcade. 
Here  was  an  old  tower,  having  one  little  room  on  each  floor,  as 
is  usually  the  case  in  such  buildings ;  and  into  one  of  these  rooms, 
the  window  of  which  was  boarded  over,  the  lady  was  conducted. 
She  continued  here  for  thirteen  or  fourteen  weeks,  supplied  with 
a  sufficiency  of  the  comforts  of  life,  but  never  allowed  to  go  into 
the  open  air ;  till  at  length  her  health  gave  way,  and  the  factor 
began  to  fear  being  concerned  in  her  death.  By  his  intercession 
with  Mr  Forster,  she  was  then  permitted  to  go  into  the  court, 
under  a  guard ;  but  such  was  the  rigour  of  her  keepers,  that  the 
garden  was  still  denied  to  her. 

Thus  time  passed  drearily  on  until  the  month  of  August, 
during  all  which  time  the  prisoner  had  no  communication  with 
the  external  world.  At  length,  by  an  arrangement  made  between 
Lord  Lovat  and  Mr  Forster,  at  the  house  of  the  latter,  near 
Stirling,  Lady  Grange  was  one  night  forcibly  brought  out,  and 
mounted  again  as  formerly,  and  carried  off  amidst  a  guard  of 
horsemen.  She  recognised  several  of  Lovat's  people  in  this 
troop,  and  found  Forster  once  more  in  command.  They  passed 
by  Stirling  Bridge,  and  thence  onward  to  the  Highlands ;  but  she 
no  longer  knew  the  way  they  were  going.  Before  daylight  they 
stopped  at  a  house,  where  she  was  lodged  during  the  day,  and 
at  night  the  march  was  resumed.  Thus  they  journeyed  for 
several  days  into  the  Highlands,  never  allowing  the  unfortunate 
lady  to  speak,  and  taking  the  most  rigid  care  to  prevent  any 
one  from  becoming  aware  of  her  situation.  During  this  time 
she  never  had  off  her  clothes :  one  day  she  slept  in  a  barn, 
another  in  an  open  enclosure.  Regard  to  delicacy  in  such  a 
case  was  impossible.  After  a  fortnight  spent  at  a  house  on 
Lord  Lovat's  ground  {probably  in  Stratherrick,  Inverness-shire), 
the  journey  was  renewed  in  the  same  style  as  before;  only  Mr 

p 


236  TRADITIONS   OF  EDINBURGH. 

Forster  had  retired  from  the  party,  and  the  lady  found  herself 
entirely  in  the  hands  of  Frasers. 

They  now  crossed  a  loch  into  Glengarry's  land,  where  they 
lodged  several  nights  in  cow-houses,  or  in  the  open  air,  making 
progress  all  the  time  to  the  westward,  where  the  country  becomes 
extremely  wild.  At  Lochour,  an  arm '  of  the  sea  on  the  west 
coast,  the  unfortunate  lady  was  transferred-  to  a  small  vessel 
which  was  in  waiting  for  her.  Bitterly  did  she  weep,  and 
pitifully  implore  compassion;  but  the  Highlanders  understood 
not  her  language;  and  though  they  had  done  so,  a  departure 
from  the  orders  which  had  been  given  them  was  not  to  be 
expected  from  men  of  their  character.  In  the  vessel,  she  found 
that  she  was  in  the  custody  of  one  Alexander  Macdonald,  a 
tenant  of  one  of  the  Western  Islands  named  Heskir,  belonging  to 
Sir  Alexander  Macdonald  of  Sleat ;  and  here  we  have  a  curious 
indication  of  the  spirit  in  which  the  Highlanders  conducted 
such  transactions.  'I  told  him,'  says  the  lady,  'that  I  was 
stolen  at  Edinburgh,  and  brought  there  by  force,  and  that  it  was 
contrary  to  the  laws  what  they  were  doing.  He  answered  that 
he  would  not  keep  me,  or  any  other,  against  their  will,  excepi  Sir 
Alexander  Macdonald  were  in  the  affair.'  While  they  lay  in 
Lochoum,  waiting  for  a  wind,  the  brother  and  son  of  Macdonald 
of  Scothouse  came  to  see,  but  not  to  relieve  her.  Other  persons 
visited  the  sloop,  and  among  these  one  William  Tolmy,  a  tenant 
of  the  chief  of  Macleod,  and  who  had  once  been  a  merchant 
at  Inverness.  This  was  the  first  person  she  had  seen  who 
expressed  any  sympathy  v/ith  her.  He  undertook  to  bear 
information  of  her  retreat  to  her  friend  and  '  man  of  business,' 
Mr  Hope  of  Rankeillor,  in  Edinburgh ;  but  it  does  not  appear 
that  he  fulfilled  his  promise. 

Lady  Grange  remained  in  Macdonald's  charge  at  Heskir 
nearly  tAvo  years — during  the  first  year  without  once  seeing 
bread,  and  with  no  supply  of  clothing ;  obliged,  in  fact,  to  live 
in  the  same  miserable  way  as  the  rest  of  the  family ;  afterwards 
some  little  indulgence  was  shewn  to  her.  This  island  was  of 
desolate  aspect,  and  had  no  inhabitant  besides  Macdonald  and 


STORY   OF   LADY   GRANGE.  237 

his  wife.  The  wretchedness  of  such  a  situation  for  a  lady  who 
had  been  all  her  life  accustomed  to  the  refined  society  of  a 
capital,  may  of  course  be  imagined.  Macdonald  would  never 
allow  her  to  write  to  any  one ;  but  he  went  to  his  landlord,  Sir 
Alexander,  to  plead  for  the  indulgences  she  required.  On  one 
of  these  occasions.  Sir  Alexander  expressed  his  regret  at  having 
been  concerned  in  such  an  affair,  and  wished  he  were  quit  of 
it.  The  wonder  is,  how  Erskine  should  have  induced  all  these 
men  to  interest  themselves  in  the  'sequestration'  of  his  wife. 
One  thing  is  here  remarkable :  they  were  all  of  them  friends  of 
the  Stuart  family,  as  was  Macleod  of  Macleod,  into  whose  hands 
the  lady  subsequently  fell.  It  therefore  becomes  probable  that 
Erskine  had  at  least  convinced  them  that  her  seclusion  from  the 
world  was  necessary  in  some  way  for  the  preservation  of  political 
secrets  important  to  them. 

In  June  1734,  a  sloop  came  to  Heskir  to  take  away  the  lady; 
it  was  commanded  by  a  Macleod,  and  in  it  she  was  conveyed  to 
the  remotest  spot  of  ground  connected  with  the  British  Islands 
— namely,  the  isle  of  St  Kilda,  the  property  of  the  chief  of 
Macleod,  and  remarkable  for  the  simple  character  of  the  poor 
peasantry  who  occupy  it.  There  cannot,  of  course,  be  a  doubt 
that  those  who  had  an  interest  in  the  seclusion  of  Lady  Grange, 
regarded  this  as  a  more  eligible  place  than  Heskir,  in  as  far  as 
it  was  more  out  of  the  way,  and  promised  better  for  her  complete 
and  permanent  confinement.  In  some  respects  it  was  an 
advantageous  change  for  the  lady :  the  place  was  not  uninhabited, 
as  Heskir  very  nearly  was ;  and  her  domestic  accommodation 
was  better.  In  St  Kilda,  she  was  placed  in  a  house  or  cottage 
of  two  small  apartments,  tolerably  well  furnished,  with  a  girl  to 
wait  upon  her,  and  provided  with  a  sufficiency  of  good  food  and 
clothing.  Of  educated  persons  the  island  contained  not  one, 
except  for  a  short  time  a  Highland  Presbyterian  clergyman, 
named  Roderick  Maclennan.  There  was  hardly  even  a  person 
capable  of  speaking  or  understanding  the  English  language 
within  reach.  No  books,  no  intelligence  from  the  world  in 
which  she  had  once  lived.     Only  once  a  year  did  a  steward 


238  TRADITIONS    OF   EDINBURGH. 

come  to  collect  the  rent  paid  in  kind  by  the  poor  people  j  and 
by  him  was  the  lady  regularly  furnished  with  a  store  of  such 
articles,  foreign  to  the  place,  as  she  needed — ^usually  a  stone  of 
sugar,  a  pound  of  tea,  six  pecks  of  wheat,  and  an  anker  of 
spirits.  Thus  she  had  no  lack  of  the  common  necessaries  of 
life :  she  only  wanted  society  and  freedom.  In  this  way  she 
spent  seven  dreary  years  in  St  Kilda.  How  she  contrived  to 
pass  her  time  is  not  known.  We  learn,  however,  some  particulars 
of  her  history  during  this  period  from  the  testimony  of  those 
who  had  a  charge  over  her.  If  this  is  to  be  believed,  she  made 
incessant  efforts,  though  without  effect,  to  bribe  the  islanders  to 
assist  in  liberating  her.  Once  a  stray  vessel  sent  a  boat  ashore 
for  water :  she  no.,  sooner  heard  of  it,  than  she  despatched  the 
minister's  wife  to  apprise  the  sailors  of  her  situation,  and  entreat 
them  to  rescue  her ;  but  Mrs  Maclennan  did  not  reach  the  spot 
till  after  they  had  departed.  She  was  kind  to  the  peasantry, 
giving  them  from  her  own  stores ;  and  sometimes  had  the  women 
to  come  and  dance  before  her ;  but  her  temper  and  habits  were 
not  such  as  to  gain  their  esteem.  Often  she  drank  too  much ; 
and  whenever  any  one  near  her  committed  the  slightest  mistake, 
she  would  fly  into  a  furious  passion,  and  even  resort  to  violence. 
Once  she  was  detected  in  an  attempt,  during  the  night,  to 
obtain  a  pistol  from  above  the  steward's  bed,  in  the  room  next 
to  her  own :  on  his  awaking  and  seeing  her,  she  ran  off  to  her 
own  bed.  One  is  disposed,  of  course,  to  make  all  possible 
allowances  for  a  person  in  her  wretched  circumstances ;  yet 
there  can  be  little  doubt,  from  the  evidence  before  us,  that  it  was 
a  natural  and  habitual  violence  of  temper  which  displayed  itself 
during  her  residence  in  St  Kilda. 

Meanwhile  it  was  known  in  Edinburgh  that  Lady  Grange  had 
been  forcibly  carried  away  and  placed  in  seclusion  by  orders  of 
her  husband ;  but  her  whereabouts  was  a  mystery  to  all  besides 
a  few  who  were  concerned  to  keep  it  secret.  During  the  years 
which  had  elapsed  since  her  abduction,  Mr  Erskine  had  given 
up  his  seat  on  the  bench,  and  entered  into  political  life  as  a 
friend  of  the  Prince  of  Wales,  and  opponent  of  Sir  Robert 


STORY   OF   LADY   GRANGE.  239 

Walpole.  The  world  had  wondered  at  the  events  of  his  domestic 
life,  and  several  persons  denounced  the  singular  means  he  had 
adopted  for  obtaining  domestic  peace.  But,  in  the  main,  he 
stood  as  well  with  society  as  he  had  ever  done.  At  length,  in 
the  winter  of  1740-41,  a  communication  from  Lady  Grange  for 
the  first  time  reached  her  friends.  It  was  brought  by  the  minister 
Maclennan  and  his  wife,  who  had  left  the  island  in  discontent, 
after  quarrelling  with  Macleod's  steward.  The  idea  of  a  lady 
by  birth  and  education  being  immured  for  a  series  of  years  in. 
an  outlandish  place  where  only  the  most  illiterate  peasantry 
resided,  and  this  by  the  command  of  a  husband  who  could  only 
complain  of  her  irritable  temper,  struck  forcibly  upon  public 
feeling,  and  particularly  upon  the  mind  of  Lady  Grange's  legal 
agent,  Mr  Hope  of  Rankeillor,  Avho  had  all  along  felt  a  keen 
interest  in  her  fate.  Of  Mr  Hope  it  may  be  remarked  that  he 
was  also  a  zealous  Jacobite;  yet,  though  all  the  persons  engaged 
in  the  lady's  abduction  were  of  that  party,  he  hesitated  not  to 
take  active  measures  on  the  contrary  side.  He  immediately 
applied  to  the  Lord  Justice-clerk  (supreme  criminal  judge)  for  a 
warrant  to  search  for  and  liberate  Lady  Grange.  This  applica- 
tion was  opposed  by  the  friends  of  Mr  Erskine,  and  eventually 
it  was  defeated  :  yet  he  was  not  on  that  account  deterred  from 
hiring  a  vessel,  and  sending  it  with  armed  men  to  secure  the 
freedom  of  the  lady — a  step  which,  as  it  was  illegal  and  danger- 
ous, obviously  implied  no  small  risk  on  his  own  part.  This 
ship  proceeded  no  farther  than  the  harbour  called  the  Horse- 
shoe, in  Lorn  (opposite  to  the  modem  town  of  Oban),  where 
the  master  quarrelled  with  and  set  on  shore  Mrs  Maclennan,  his 
guide.  Apparently  the  voyage  was  not  prosecuted,  in  conse- 
quence of  intelhgence  being  received  that  the  lady  had  been 
removed  to  another  place,  where  she  was  kept  in  more  humane 
circumstances.  If  so,  its  object  might  be  considered  as  in 
part  at  least,  though  indirectly,  accomplished. 

I  have  seen  a  warrant,  signed  in  the  holograph  of  Normand 
Macleod — the  same  insular  chief  who,  a  few  years  after,  lost 
public  respect  in  consequence  of  his  desertion  of  the  Jacobite 


240  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

cause,  and  shewing  an  active  hostility  to  Prince  Charles  when  in 
hiding.  The  document  is  dated  at  Dunvegan,  February  17, 
1 741,  and  proceeds  upon  a  rumour  which  has  reached  the  writer, 
that  a  certain  gentlewoman,  called  Lady  Grange,  was  carried  to 
his  isle  of  St  Kilda  in  1734,  and  has  ever  since  been  confined 
there  under  cruel  circumstances.  Regarding  this  as  a  scandal 
which  he  is  bound  to  inquire  into  (as  if  it  could  have  hitherto 
been  a  secret  to  him),  he  orders  his  baron-bailie  of  Harris, 
Donald  Macleod  of  Bemera  (this  was  a  gallant  fellow,  who  went 
out  in  the  forty-five),  to  proceed  to  that  island  and  make  the 
necessary  investigations,  I  have  also  seen  the  original  precog- 
nition taken  by  honest  Donald,  six  days  thereafter,  when  the 
various  persons  who  had  been  about  Lady  Grange  gave  evidence 
respecting  her.  The  general  bearing  of  this  testimony,  besides 
establishing  the  fact  of  her  confinement  as  a  prisoner,  is  to  the 
effect  that  she  was  treated  well  in  all  other  respects,  having  a 
house  forty  feet  long,  with  an  inner  room  and  a  chimney  to  it, 
a  curtained  bed,  arm-chair,  table,  and  other  articles;  ample  store 
of  good  provisions,  including  spirits  ;  and  plenty  of  good 
clothes;  but  that  she  was  addicted  to  liquor,  and  liable  to 
dreadful  outbreaks  of  anger.  Evidence  was  at  the  same  time 
taken  regarding  the  character  of  the  Maclennans,  upon  whose 
reports  Mr  Hope  had  proceeded.  It  was  Mr  Erskine's  interest 
to  establish  that  they  were  worthless  persons,  and  to  this  effect 
strong  testimony  was  given  by  several  of  the  islanders,  though 
it  would  be  difficult  to  say  with  what  degree  of  verity.  The 
whole  purpose  of  these  precognitions  was  to  meet  the  clamours 
raised  by  Mr  Hope  as  to  the  barbarities  to  which  Lady  Grange 
had  been  subjected.  They  had  the  effect  of  stopping  for  a 
time  the  legal  proceedings  threatened  by  that  gentleman;  but 
he  afterwards  raised  an  action  in  the  Court  of  Session  for  pay- 
ment of  the  arrears  of  aliment  or  allowance  due  to  the  lady, 
amounting  to  ^^1150,  and  obtained  decreet  or  judgment  in  the 
year  1743  against  the  defender  in  absence,  though  he  did  not 
choose  to  put  it  in  force. 

The  unfortunate  cause  of  all  these  proceedings  ceased  to  be  a 


STORY   OF   LADY   GRANGE.  241 

trouble  to  any  one  in  May  1745.  Erskine,  writing  from  West- 
minster, June  I,  in  answer  to  an  intimation  of  her  death,  says  : 
*  I  most  heartily  thank  you,  my  dear  friend,  for  the  timely  notice 
you  gave  me  of  the  death  of  that  person.  It  would  be  a 
ridiculous  untruth  to  pretend  grief  for  it ;  but  as  it  brings  to  my 
mind  a  train  of  various  things  for  many  years  back,  it  gives  me 
concern.  Her  retaining  wit  and  facetiousness  to  the  last 
surprises  me.  These  qualities  none  found  in  her,  no  more  than 
common-sense  or  good-nature,  before  she  went  to  these  parts ; 
and  of  the  reverse  of  all  which,  if  she  had  not  been  irrecoverably 
possest,  in  an  extraordinary  and  insufferable  degree,  after  many 
years'  fruitless  endeavours  to  reclaim  her,  she  had  never  seen 
these  parts.  I  long  for  the  particulars  of  her  death,  which,  you 
are  pleased  to  tell  me,  I  am  to  have  by  next  post.' 

Mr  Hope's  wife  and  daughters  being  left  as  heirs  of  Lady 
Grange,  an  action  was  raised  in  their  name  for  the  ;^ii5o 
formerly  awarded,  and  for  three  years  additional  of  her  annuity ; 
and  for  this  compound  sum  decreet  was  obtained,  which  was 
followed  by  steps  for  forcing  payment.  The  Hopes  were  aware, 
however,  of  the  dubious  character  of  this  claim,  seeing  that  Mr 
Erskine,  from  whatever  causes,  had  substituted  an  actual  subsist- 
ence since  1732.  They  accordingly  intimated  that  they  aimed 
at  no  personal  benefit  from  Lady  Grange's  bequest;  and  the 
affair  terminated  in  Mr  Erskine  reimbursing  Mr  Hope  for  all 
the  expenses  he  had  incurred  on  behalf  of  the  lady,  including 
that  for  the  sloop  which  he  had  hired  to  proceed  to  St  Kilda  for 
her  rescue. 

It  is  humbly  thought  that  this  story  casts  a  curious  and 
faithful  light  upon  the  age  of  our  grandfathers,  shewing  things 
in  a  kind  of  transition  from  the  sanguinary  violence  of  an 
earlier  age  to  the  humanity  of  the  present  times.  Erskine,  not 
to  speak  of  his  office  of  a  judge  in  Scotland,  moved  in  English 
society  of  the  highest  character.  He  must  have  been  the  friend 
of  Lyttelton,  Pope,  Thomson,  and  other  ornaments  of  Frederick's 
court  j  and,  as  the  brother-in-law  of  the  Countess  of  Mar,  who 
was  sister  of  Lady  Mary  Wortley  Montagu,  he  would  figure  in 


242  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

the  brilliant  circle  which  surrounded  that  star  of  the  age  of  the 
second  George.  Yet  he  does  not  appear  to  have  ever  felt  a 
moment's  compunction  at  leaving  the  mother  of  his  children  to 
pine  and  fret  herself  to  death  in  a  half-savage  wilderness — 

'  Placed  far  amidst  the  melancholy  main  ;' 

for  in  a  paper  which  expresses  his  feelings  on  the  subject  pretty- 
freely,  he  justifies  the  '  sequestration '  as  a  step  required  by 
prudence  and  decency;  and,  in  shewing  that  the  gross  neces- 
saries of  life  were  afforded  to  his  wife,  seems  to  have  considered 
that  his  whole  duty  towards  her  was  discharged.  Such  an 
insensibility  could  not  be  peculiar  to  one  man :  it  indicates  the 
temper  of  a  class  and  of  an  age.  While  congratulating  ourselves 
on  the  improved  humanity  of  our  own  times,  we  may  glance  with 
satisfaction  to  the  means  which  it  places  in  our  power  for  the 
proper  treatment  of  patients  like  Mrs  Erskine.  Such  a  woman 
would  now  be  regarded  as  the  unfortunate  victim  of  disease, 
and  instead  of  being  forcibly  carried  off  under  cloud  of  night  by 
a  band  of  Highlanders,  and  committed  to  confinement  on  the 
outskirts  of  the  world,  she  would,  with  proper  precautions,  be 
remitted  to  an  asylum,  where,  by  gentle  and  rational  manage- 
ment, it  might  be  hoped  that  she  would  be  restored  to  mental 
health,  or,  at  the  Avorst,  enabled  to  spend  the  remainder  of  her 
days  in  the  utmost  comfort  which  her  state  admitted  of. 


[1868. — About  the  middle  of  Cant's  Close,  on  the  west  side, 
there  exists  a  remarkable  edifice,  different  from  all  others  in  the 
neighbourhood.  It  is  two  stories  in  height,  the  second  story 
being  reached  by  an  outside  stone  stair  within  a  small  court-  • 
yard,  which  had  originally  been  shut  in  by  a  gate.  The  stone 
pillars  of  the  gateway  are  decorated  with  balls  at  the  top,  as  was 
the  fashion  of  entrances  to  the  grounds  of  a  country  mansion. 
The  building  is  picturesque  in  character,  in  the  style  of  the 
sixteenth  century  in  Scotland.  As  it  resembles  a  neat  old- 
fashioned  country-house,  one  wonders  to  find  it  jammed  up 
amidst  tall  edifices  in  this  confined  alley.     Ascending  the  stair, 


cant's  close. 


243 


we  find  that  tlie  interior  consists  of  three  or  four  apartments, 
\vith  handsome  panelled  walls,  and  elaborately  carved  stucco 
ceilings.  The  principal  room  has  a  double  -window  on  the  west 
to  Dickson's  Close. 

Daniel  Wilson,  in  his  Memorials  of  Edinburgh,  speaks  of  this 
building  in  reference  to  Dickson's  Close.  He  says :  *  A  little 
lower  down  the  close  on  the  same  side,  an  old  and  curious  stone 
tenement  bears   on  its  lower  crow-step  the  Haliburton  arms, 


-  Old  Mansion,  Cant's  Close. 

impaled  with  another  coat,  on  one  shield.  It  is  a  singularly 
antique  and  time-worn  edifice,  evidently  of  considerable  antiquity. 
A  curious  double  window  projects  on  a  corbelled  base  into  the 
close,  while  the  whole  stone-work  is  so  much  decayed  as  greatly 
to  add  to  its  picturesque  character.  In  the  earliest  deed  which 
exists,  bearing  date    1582,  its  first  proprietor,  Master  James 


244  TRADITIONS    OF   EDINBURGH. 

Halyburton — a  title  then  of  some  meaning — is-  spoken  of  in 
indefinite  terms  as  umq^%  or  deceased ;  so  that  it  is  a  building 
probably  of  the  early  part  of  the  sixteenth  century.'  It  is  known 
that  the  adjoining  properties  on  the  north  once  pertained  to  the 
collegiate  church  of  Crichton;  while  those  on  the  east,  in 
Strichen's  Close,  comprehended  the  town  residence  of  the  Abbot 
of  Melrose,  1526. 

The  adjoining  wood-cut  will  give  some  idea  of  this  strange  old 
mansion  in  Cant's  Close,  with  its  gateway  and  flight  of  steps. 
In  looking  over  the  titles,  we  find  that  the  tenement  was  con- 
veyed in  1735  from  Robert  Geddes  of  Scotstoun,  Peeblesshire, 
to  George  Wight,  a  burgess  of  Edinburgh,  since  which  period  it 
has  gradually  deteriorated ;  every  apartment,  from  the  ground  to 
the  garret,  is  now  a  dwelling  for  a  separate  family;  and  the 
whole  surroundings  are  most  wretched.  The  edifice  forms  one 
of  the  properties  to  be  removed  under  the  Improvement  Act  of 
1867.] 


ABBOT  OF  MELROSE'S  LODGING. 

Sir  George  Mackenzie — Lady  Anne  Dick. 

In  CathoHc  times,  several  of  the  great  dignitaries  of  the  church 
had  houses  in  Edinburgh,  as  the  Archbishop  of  St  Andrews  at 
the  foot  of  Blackfriars  Wynd,  the  Bishop  of  Dunkeld  in  the 
Cowgate,  and  the  Abbot  of  Cambuskenneth  in  the  Lawnmarket.* 
The  Abbot  of  Melrose's  'lodging'  appears  from  public  docu- 
ments to  have  been  in  what  is  now  called  Strichen's  Close,  in 
the  High  Street,  immediately  to  the  west  of  Blackfriars  Wynd. 
It  had  a  garden  extending  down  to  the  Cowgate,  and  up  part  of 
the  opposite  slope. 

A  successor  of  the  abbot  in  this  possession  was  Sir  George 
Mackenzie  of  Rosehaugh,  king's  advocate  in  the  reigns  of 
Charles  II.  and  James  IL,  and  author  of  several  able  works 

*  At  the  head  of  the  Old  Bank  Close,  to  the  westward ;  burned  down  in  1771. 


SIR   GEORGE   MACKENZIE.  245 

in  Scottish  law,  as  well  as  a  successful  cultivator  of  miscellaneous 
literature.  He  got  a  charter  of  the  property  from  the  magistrates 
in  1677.  The  house  occupied  by  Sir  George  still  exists,  and 
appears  to  have  been  a  goodly  enough  mansion  for  its  time.  It 
is  now,  however,  possessed  by  a  brassfounder  as  a  place  of 
business.  From  Sir  George  the  alley  was  called  Rosehaugh's 
Close,  till,  this  house  falling  by  marriage  connection  into  the 
possession  of  Lord  Strichen,  it  got  the  name  of  Strichen's  Close, 
which  it  still  bears.  Lord  Strichen  was  a  judge  of  the  Court  of 
Session  for  forty-five  years  subsequent  to  1730.  He  was  the 
direct  ancestor  of  the  present  LordLovat  of  the  British  peerage. 
Mackenzie  has  still  a  place  in  the  popular  imagination  in 
Edinburgh,  as  the  Bluidy  Mackingie,  his  office  having  been  to 
prosecute  the  unruly  Covenanters.  It  therefore  happens  that 
the  founder  of  our  greatest  national  library,  one  whom  Dryden 
regarded  as  a  friend,  and  who  was  the  very  first  writer  of  classic 
English  prose  in  Scotland,  is  a  sort  of  Raw-head  and  Bloody- 
bones  by  the  firesides  of  his  native  capital.  He  lies  in  a 
beautiful  mausoleum,  which  forms  a  conspicuous  object  in  the 
Gre3rfriars  Churchyard,  and  which  describes  him  as  an  ornament 
to  his  age,  and  a  man  who  was  kind  to  all,  *  except  a  rebellious 
crew,  from  whose  violence,  with  tongue  and  pen,  he  defended 
his  country  and  king,  whose  virulence  he  stayed  by  the  sword  of 
justice,  and  whose  ferocity  he,  by  the  force  of  reason,  blunted, 
and  only  did  not  subdue.'  This  monument  was  an  object  of 
horror  to  the  good  people  of  Edinburgh,  as  it  was  almost 
universally  believed  that  the  sprite  of  the  persecutor  could  get  no 
rest  in  its  superb  but  gloomy  tenement.  It  used  to  be  '  a  feat ' 
for  a  set  of  boys,  in  a  still  summer  evening,  to  march  up  to  the 
ponderous  doors,  bedropt  with  white  tears  upon  a  black  ground, 
and  cry  in  at  the  keyhole  : 

'  Bluidy  Mackingie,  come  out  if  ye  daur, 
Lift  the  sneck,  and  draw  the  bar  ! ' 

after  which  they  would  run  away,  as  if  some  hobgoblin  were  in 
chase  of  them,  probably  not  looking  round  till  they  were  out  of 
the  churchyard. 


246  TRADITIONS    OF   EDINBURGH. 

Sir  George  Mackerizie  had  a  country-house  called  Shank, 
about  ten  miles  to  the  south  of  Edinburgh,  now  a  ruin.  One 
day  the  Marquis  of  Tweeddale,  having  occasion  to  consult  him 
about  some  law  business,  rode  across  the  country,  and  arrived  at 
so  early  an  hour  in  the  morning,  that  the  lawyer  was  not  yet  out 
of  bed.  Soliciting  an  immediate  audience,  he  was  admitted  to 
the  bedroom,  where  he  sat  down  and  detailed  the  case  to  Sir 
George,  who  gave  him  all  necessary  counsel  from  behind  the 
curtains.  When  the  marquis  advanced  to  present  a  fee,  he  was 
startled  at  the  apparition  of  a  female  hand  through  the  curtains, 
in  an  attitude  expressive  of  a  readiness  to  receive,  while  no 
hand  appeared  on  the  part  of  Sir  George.  The  explanation 
was,  that  Sir  George's  lady,  as  has  been  the  case  with  many  a 
weaker  man,  took  entire  charge  of  his  purse.* 

Several  of  the  descendants  of  this  great  lawyer  have  been 
remarkable  for  their  talents.  None,  perhaps,  possessed  more 
of  the  vivida  vis  animi  than  his  grand-daughter.  Lady  Anne 
Dick  of  Corstorphine  (also  grand-daughter,  by  the  father's  side, 
to  the  clever  but  unscrupulous  '  Tarbat  Register,'  the  first  Earl 
of  Cromarty). t  This  lady  excited  much  attention  in  Edinburgh 
society  by  her  eccentric  manners  and  her  droll  pasquinade 
verses  :  one  of  those  beings  she  was  who  astonish,  perplex,  and 
fidget  their  fellow-creatures,  till  at  last  the  world  feels  a  sort  of 
relief  when  they  are  removed  from  the  stage.  She  made  many 
enemies  by  her  lampoons;  and  her  personal  conduct  only 
afforded  them  too  good  room  for  revenge.  Sometimes  she 
would  dress  herself  in  men's  clothes,  and  go  about  the  town 
in  search  of  adventures.  One  of  her  frolics  ended  rather 
disgracefully,  for  she  and  her  maid,  being  apprehended  in  their 
disguise,  were  lodged  all  night  in  the  Town  Guard-house.     It 

*  This  anecdote  was  related  to  me  by  the  first  Lord  Wharncliffe,  grandson's  grandson  to 
Sir  George,  about  1828. 

t  Cromarty,  at  seventy,  contrived  to  marry  '  a  young  and  beautiful  countess  in  her  own 
right,  a  widow,  wealthy,  and  in  universal  estimation.  The  following  distich  was  composed 
on  the  occasion : 

Thou  sonsie  auld  carl,  the  world  has  not  thy  like, 

For  ladies  fa'  in  love  with  thee,  though  thou  be  ane  auld  tyke.' 

C.  K.  Sharpe,  Notes  to  Law's  Memorials,  p.  xlvii. 


LADY  ANNE   DICK.  247 

may  be  readily  imagined  that,  by  those  whom  her  wit  had 
exasperated,  such  folhes  would  be  deeply  relished,  and  made 
the  most  of.  We  must  not,  therefore  be  surprised  at  Scandal 
telling  that  Lady  Anne  had  at  one  period  lain  a  whole  year  in 
bed,  in  a  vain  endeavoui' — to  baffle  himself. 

Through  private  channels  have  oozed  out  at  this  late  day  a 
few  specimens  of  Lady  Anne's  poetical  abilities ;  less  brilliant 
than  might  be  expected  from  the  above  character  of  her,  yet. 
having  a  certain  air  of  dash  and  espieglerie  which  looks  appro- 
priate. They  are  partly  devoted  to  bewailing  the  coldness  of  a 
certain  Sir  Peter  Murray  of  Balmanno,  towards  whom  she  chose 
to  act  a  sort  of  she-Petrarch,  but  apparently  in  the  mere  pursuit 
of  whim.     One  runs  in  the  following  tender  strain  : 

'  Oh,  when  he  dances  at  a  ball, 

He 's  rarely  worth  the  seeing  ; 
So  light  he  trips,  you  would  him  take 

For  some  aerial  being  ! 
While  pinky- winky  go  his  een, 

How  blest  is'each  bystander  ! 
How  gracefully  he  leads  the  fair. 

When  to  her  seat  he  hands  her ! 

But  when  in  accents  saft  and  sweet, 

He  chants  forth  Lizzie  Baillie, 
His  dying  looks  and  attitude 

Enchant,  they  cannot  fail  ye. 
The  loveliest  widow  in  the  land, 

When  she  could  scarce  disarm  him, 
Alas  !  the  belles  in  Roxburghshire 

Must  never  hope  to  charm  him  ! 

O  happy,  happy,  happy  she, 

Could  make  him  change  his  plan,  sir. 
And  of  this  rigid  bachelor. 

Convert  the  married  man,  sir  : 
«  O  happy,  and  thrice  happy  she, 

Could  make  him  change  his  plan,  sir, 
And  to  the  gentle  Benedick 

Convert  the  single  man,  sir,'  &c. 


248  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

In  another,  tired,  apparently,  of  the  apathy  of  this  sweet  youth, 
she  breaks  out  as  follows : 

'  Oh,  wherefore  did  I  cross  the  Forth, 

And  leave  my  love  behind  me  ? 
Why  did  I  venture  to  the  north, 
'  With  one  that  did  not  mind  me  ? 

Had  I  but'visited  Carin  ! 

It  would  have  been  much  better, 
Than  pique  the  prudes,  and  make  a  din. 

For  careless,  cold  Sir  Peter  ! 

I  'm  sure  I  've  seen  a  better  limb. 
And  twenty  better  faces  ; 
I  But  still  my  mind  it  ran  on  him, 

When  I  was  at  the  races. 

At  night,  when  we  went  to  the  ball, 

Were  many  there  discreeter ; 
The  well-bred  duke,  and  lively  Maule, 

Panmure  behaved  much  better. 

They  kindly  shewed  their  courtesy, 

And  looked  on  me  much  sweeter  j 
Yet  easy  could  I  never  be. 

For  thinking  on  Sir  Peter, 

I  fain  would  wear  an  easy  air. 

But  oh,  it  looked  affected, 
And  e'en  the  fine  ambassador 

Could  see  he  was  neglected. 

Though  Powrie  left  for  me  the  spleen. 

My  temper  grew  no  sweeter ; 
I  think  I  'm  mad — what  do  I  mean. 

To  follow  cold  Sir  Peter  ! ' 

Her  ladyship  died,  without  issue,  in  1741. 


PALACE  OF  ARCHBISHOP  BETHUNE.  249 


BLACKFRIARS    WYND. 

Palace  of  Archbishop  Bethune — Boarding-Schools  of  the  Last  Century — 
The  Last  of  the  Lorimers — Lady  Lovat. 

Those  who  now  look  into  Blackfriars  Wynd — ^passing  through 
it  is  out  of  the  question — ^will  be  surprised  to  learn  that,  all 
dismal  and  wretched  as  it  is  in  all  respects,  it  was  once  a  place 
of  some  respectability  and  even  dignity.  On  several  of  its  tall 
old  lands  may  be  seen  inscriptions  implying  piety  on  the  part  of 
the  founder — one,  for  example  : 

PAX   INTRANTIBUS, 
SALUS   EXEUNTIBUS — 

another : 

MISERERE  MET,    DEUS  J 

this  last  containing  in  its  upper  floor  all  that  the  adherents  of 
Rome  had  forty  years  ago  as  a  place  of  worship  in  Edinburgh — 
the  chapel  to  which,  therefore,  as  a  matter  of  course,  the  late 
Charles  X.  resorted  with  his  suite,  when  residing  as  Comte 
d'Artois  in  Holyrood  House.  The  alley  gets  its  name  from 
having  been  the  access  to  the  Blackfriars'  Monastery  on  the 
opposite  slope,  and  being  built  on  their  land. 

PALACE   OF   ARCHBISHOP    BETHUNE. 

At  the  foot  of  the  wynd,  on  the  east  side,  is  a  large  mansion 
of  antique  appearance,  forming  two  sides  of  a  quadrangle,  with 
diporte  cochere  giving  access  to  a  court  behind,  and  a  picturesque 
overhanging  turret  at  the  exterior  angle.  This  house  was  built 
by  James  Bethune,  archbishop  of  Glasgow  (1508-15  24),  chan- 
cellor of  the  kingdom,  and  one  of  the  Lords  Regent  under  the 
Duke  of  Albany  during  the  minority  of  James  V.  Lyndsay,  in 
his  Chronicles,  speaks  of  it  as  '  his  owen  ludging  quhilk  he  biggit 
in  the  Freiris  Wynd.'     Keith,  at  a  later  period,  says  :  '  Over  the 


a^O  TRADITIONS    OF   EDINBURGH. 

entry  of  which  the  arms  of  the  family  of  Bethune  are  to  be 
seen  to  this  day.'  Common  report  represents  it  as  the  house  of 
Cardinal  Bethune,  who  was  the  nephew  of  the  Archbishop  of 
Glasgow;  and  it  is  not  improbable  that  the  one  prelate  be- 
queathed it  to  the  other,  and  that  it  thus  became,  what  Maitland 


Cardinal  Bethune's  House. 

calls  it,  'the  archiepiscopal  palace  belonging  to  the  see  of  St 
Andrews,' 

The  ground-floor  of  this  extensive  building  is  arched  over 
with  strong  stone-work,  after  the  fashion  of  those  houses  of 
defence  of  the  same  period  which  are  still  scattered  over  the 
country.  Some  years  ago,  when  one  of  the  arches  was  removed 
to  make  way  for  a  common  ceiling,  a  thick  layer  of  sand,  firmly 
beaten  down,  was  found  between  the  surface  of  the  vault  and 


BOARDING-SCHOOLS   OF  THE  LAST  CENTURY.  25 1 

the  floor  above.  Ground-floors  thus  formed  were  applied  in 
former  times  to  inferior  domestic  uses,  and  to  the  storing  of 
articles  of  value.  The  chief  apartments  for  living  in  were  on 
the  floor  above — that  is,  the  so-called  first  floor.  And  such  is 
the  case  in  all  the  best  houses  of  an  old  fashion  in  the  city  of 
St  Andrews  at  this  day. 

I  shall  afterwards  have  something  to  say  of  an  event  of  the 
year  15 17,  with  which  Archbishop  Bethune's  house  was  con- 
nected. It  appears  to  have  been  occupied  by  James  V.  in 
1528,  while  he  was  deliberating  on  the  propriety  of  calling  a 
parliament. 

The  Bethune  palace  is  now,  like  its  confreres,  abandoned  to 
tlie  humblest  class  of  tenants.  Eighty  years  ago,  however,  it 
must  have  still  been  a  tolerably  good  house,  as  it  was  then  the 
residence  of  Bishop  Abernethy  Drummond,  of  the  Scottish 
Episcopal  communion,  the  husband  of  the  heiress  of  Hawthorn- 
den.  This  worthy  divine  occupied  some  space  in  the  public 
eye  in  his  day,  and  was  particularly  active  in  obtaining  the  repeal 
of  the  penal  statutes  against  his  church.  Some  wag,  figuring 
the  surprise  in  high  places  at  a  stir  arising  from  a  quarter  so 
obscure,  penned  this  epigram  : 

'  Lord  Sydney,  to  the  privy-council  summoned, 

By  testy  majesty  was  questioned  quick  : 
"  Eh,  eh  !  who,  who 's  this  Abernethy  Drummond, 
And  where,  in  Heaven's  name,  is  his  bishopric?'" 

BOARDING-SCHOOLS   OF   THE   LAST   CENTURY. 

When  the  reader  hears  such  things  of  the  Freir  W)Tid,  he 
must  not  be  surprised  overmuch  on  perusing  the  following 
advertisement  from  the  Edinburgh  Gazette  of  April  19,  1703  : 
'  There  is  a  Boarding-school  to  be  set  up  in  Blackfriars  Wynd, 
in  Robinson's  Land,  upon  the  west  side  of  the  wynd,  near  the 
middle  thereof,  in  the  first  door  of  the  stair  leading  to  the  said 
land,  against  the  latter  end  of  May,  or  first  of  June  next,  where 
young  Ladies  and  Gentlewomen  may  have  all  sorts  of  breeding 

Q 


252  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

that  is  to  be  had  in  any  part  of  Britain,  and  great  care  taken  of 
their  conversation.' 

I  know  not  whether  this  was  the  same  seminary  which, 
towards  the  middle  of  the  century,  was  kept  by  a  distinguished 
lady  named  Mrs  Euphame  or  Effie  Sinclair,  who  was  descended 
from  the  ancient  family  of  Longformacus,  in  Berwickshire,  being 
the  granddaughter  of  Sir  Robert  Sinclair,  first  baronet  of 
Longformacus,  upon  whom  that  dignity  was  conferred  by  King 
Charles  II.,  in  consideration  of  his  services  and  losses  during 
the  civil  war.  Mrs  Effie  was  allied  to  many  of  the  best  families 
in  Scotland,  who  made  it  a  duty  to  place  their  children  under 
her  charge;  and  her  school  was  thus  one  of  the  most  respectable 
in  Edinburgh.  By  her  were  educated  the  beautiful  Miss  Duff, 
afterwards  Countess  of  Dumfries  and  Stair,  and,  by  a  second 
marriage,  lady  of  the  Honourable  Alexander  Gordon  (Lord 
Rockville) ;  the  late  amiable  and  excellently  well  informed  Mrs 
Keith,  sister  of  Si^  Robert  Keith,  commonly  called,  from  his 
diplomatic  services.  Ambassador  Keith  ;^  the  two  Misses  Hume 
of  Linthill;  and  Miss  Rutherford,  the  mother  of  Sir  Walter 
Scott.  All  these  ladies  were  Scottish  cousins  to  Mrs  Effie,  To 
judge  by  the  proficiency  of  her  scholars,  although  much  of  what 
is  called  accomplishment  might  be  then  left  untaught,  she  must 
have  been  possessed  of  uncommon  talents  for  education;  for 
all  the  ladies  before  mentioned  had  well-cultivated  minds,  were 
fond  of  reading,  wrote  and  spelled  admirably,  were  well 
acquainted  with  history  and  with  belles-lettres,  without  neglecting 
the  more  homely  duties  of  the  needle  and  the  account-book ; 
and,  while  two  of  them  were  women  of  extraordinary  talents,  all 
of  them  were  perfectly  well-bred  in  society. 

*  This  gentleman  was  absent  from  Edinburgh  about  twenty-two  years,  and  returned  at  a 
time  when  it  was  supposed  that  manners  were  beginning  to  exhibit  symptoms  of  great 
improvement.  He,  however,  complained  that  they  were  degenerated.  In  his  early  time, 
he  said,  every  Scottish  gentleman  of  ;^300  a  year  travelled  abroad  when  young,  and  brought 
home  to  the  bosom  of  domestic  life,  and  to  the  profession  in  which  it  might  be  his  fate  to 
engage,  a  vast  fund  of  literary  information,  knowledge  of  the  world,  and  genuine  good- 
manners,  which  dignified  his  character  through  life.  But  towards  the  year  1770,  this 
practice  had  been  entirely  given  up;  and,  in  consequence,  a  sensible  change  was  discoverable 
upon  the  face  of  good  society. — (See  the  Life  ofyohn  Home,  by  Henry  Mackenzie,  Esq.) 


BOARDING-SCHOOLS   OF  THE   LAST   CENTURY.  253 

It  may  be  added,  that  many  of  these  young  ladies  were  sent 
to  reside  with,  and  be  finished  off  by,  the  Honourable  Mrs 
Ogilvie,  lady  of  tlie  Honourable  Patrick  Ogilvie  of  Longmay 
and  Inchmartin,  who  was  supposed  to  be  the  best-bred  woman 
of  her  time  in  Scotland  (ob.  1753).  Her  system  was  very 
rigorous,  according  to  the  spirit  of  the  times.  The  young  ladies 
were  taught  to  sit  quite  upright;  and  the  mother  of  my 
informant  (Sir  Walter  Scott),  even  when  advanced  to  nearly 
her  eightieth  year,  never  permitted  her  back  to  touch  the  chair 
in  sitting.  There  is  a  remarkably  good  and  characteristic 
anecdote  told  of  the  husband  of  this  rigorous  preceptress,  a 
younger  brother  of  the  Earl  of  Findlater,  whose  exertions,  while 
Lord  High-chancellor  of  Scotland,  in  favour  of  the  Union,  were 
so  conspicuous.  The  younger  brother,  it  appears,  had  con- 
descended to  trade  a  little  in  cattle,  which  was  not  considered 
derogatory  to  the  dignity  of  a  Scottish  gentleman  at  that  time, 
and  was  by  no  means  an  uncommon  practice  among  them. 
However,  the  earl  was  offended  at  the  measure,  and  upbraided 
his  brother  for  it.  'Haud  your  tongue,  man!'  said  the  cattle- 
dealer,  'better  sell  nowte  than  sell  nations,'  pronouncing  the 
last  word  with  peculiar  and  emphatic  breadth, 

I  am  tempted,  by  the  curious  and  valuable  document 
appended,  to  suspect  that  the  female  accomplishments  of  the 
last  century  were  little  behind  those  of  the  present  in  point  of 
useless  elaboration. 

'  Thursday,  December  9,  1703. — Near  Dundee,  at  Dudhope, 
there  is  to  be  taught,  by  a  gentlewoman  from  London,  the 
following  works,  viz. — i.  Wax-work  of  all  sorts,  as  any  one's 
picture  to  the  life,  figures  in  shadow  glasses,  fruits  upon  trees  or 
in  dishes,  all  manner  of  confections,  fish,  flesh,  fowl,  or  anything 
that  can  be  made  of  wax. — 2.  Philligrim-work  of  any  sort, 
whether  hollow  or  flat. — 3.  Japan-work  upon  timber  or  glass.- — 
4.  Painting  upon  glass. — 5.  Sashes  for  windows,  upon  sarsnet 
or  transparent  paper. — 6.  Straw-work  of  any  sort,  as  houses, 
birds,  or  beasts. — 7.  Shell-work,  in  sconces,  rocks,  or  flowers. — 
8.    Quill-work. — 9.    Gum-work. — 10.    Transparent-work.  — 11. 


-254  TRADITIONS    OF   EDINBURGH. 

■Puff-work. — 12.  Paper-work. — 13.  Plate-work  on  timber,  brass, 
or  glass. — 14.  Tortoiseshell-work. — 15.  Mould-work,  boxes  and 
baskets. — 16.  Silver  landskips. — 17.  Gimp-work. — 18.  Bugle- 
work. — 19.  A  sort  of  work  in  imitation  of  japan,  very  cheap. — 
20.  Embroidering,  stitching,  and  quilting. — 21.  True  point  or 
tape  lace. — 22.  Cutting  glass. — 23,  Washing  gauzes,  or  Flanders 
lace  and  point. — 24.  Pastry  of  all  sorts,  with  the  finest  cuts  and 
shapes  that's  now  used  in  London. — 25.  Boning  fowls,  without 
.cutting  the  back. — 26.  Butter-work. — 27.  Preserving,  conserving, 
and  candying.— 28.  Pickling  and  colouring. — 29.  All  sorts  of 
Enghsh  wines. — 30.  Writing  and  arithmetic. — 31.  Music,  and 
the  great  end  of  dancing,  which  is  a  good  carriage;  and  several 
other  things  too  tedious  here  to  be  mentioned.  Any  who  are 
desirous  to  learn  the  above  works  may  board  with  herself  at  a 
reasonable  rate,  or  may  board  themselves  in  Dundee,  and  may 
come  to  her  quarterly.' — Advertisemejit  i?i  Edinburgh  Gazette, 
1703. 

Another  distinguished  Edinburgh  boarding-school  of  the  last 
century  was  kept  by  two  ladies  of  Jacobite  predilections  named 
the  Misses  Ged,  in  Paterson's  Court,  Lawnmarket.  They  were 
remarkable  at  least  for  their  family  connections,  for  it  was  a 
brother  of  theirs  who,  under  the  name  of  Don  Patricio  Ged, 
rendered  such  kindly  and  effective  service  to  Commodore 
Byron,  as  gratefully  recorded  in  the  well-known  Narrative,  and 
gracefully  touched  on  by  Campbell  in  the  Pleasures  of  Hope: 

*  He  found  a  warmer  world,  a  milder  clime, 
A  home  to  rest,  a  shelter  to  defend, 
FeacQ  and  repose,  a  Briton  and  a  friend.' 

Another  member  of  the  family,  William  Ged,  originally  a  gold- 
smith in  Edinburgh,  was  the  inventor  of  stereotype  printing. 
The  Misses  Ged  were  described  by  their  friends  as  of  the  Geds 
of  Baldridge  near  Dunfermline;  thorough  Fife  Jacobites  every 
one  of  them.  The  old  ladies  kept  a  portrait  of  the  Chevaher  in 
their  parlour,  and  looked  chiefly  to  partisans  of  the  Stuarts  for 
support.      They  had    another  relative   of   less   dignity,   who, 


THE   LAST   OF   THE   LORIMERS.  255 

accepting  a  situation  in  the  Town-guard,  became  liable  to  satiric 
reference  from  Robert  Fergusson  : 

'  Nunc  est  bibendum,  et  bendere  bickerum  magnum, 
Cavete  Town-guardum,  Dougal  Geddum,  atque  Campbellum.' 

Dougal  had  been  a  silversmith,  but  in  his  own  conceit  his  red 
coat  as  a  Town-guard  officer  made  him  completely  military. 
Seeing  a  lady  without  a  beau  at  the  door  of  the  Assembly 
Room,  he  offered  his  services,  'if  the  arm  of  an  old  soldier 
could  be  of  any  use.'  'Hoot  awa,  Dougal,'  said  the  lady, 
accepting  his  assistance,  however;  'an  auld  tinkler,  you  mean.' 

THE   LAST   OF   THE   LORIMERS. 

To  return  for  a  moment  to  the  archiepiscopal  palace.  It 
contained,  about  eighty  years  ago,  a  person  calling  himself  a 
LoRiMER — an  appellative  once  familiar  in  Edinburgh,  being 
applied  to  those  who  deal  in  the  iron-work  used  in  saddlery.* 

*  It  is  curious  to  observe  how,  in  correspondence  with  the  change  in  our  manners  and 
customs,  one  trade  has  become  extinct,  while  another  succeeded  in  its  place.  At  the  end 
of  the  sixteenth  century,  the  manufacture  of  offensive  weapons  predominated  over  all  other 
trades  in  Edinburgh.  We  had  then  cutlers,  whose  essay-piece,  on  being  admitted  of  the 
corporation,  was  '  ane  plain  finished  quhanzear '  or  sword ;  gaird-makers,  whose  business 
consisted  in  fashioning  sword-handles ;  Dalmascars,  who  gilded  the  said  weapon  ;  and 
belt-makers,  who  wrought  the  girdles  that  bound  it  to  the  wearer's  body.  There  were  also 
dag-makers,  who  made  hackbuts  (short  guns)  and  dags  (pistols).  These  various  professions 
became  all  associated  in  the  general  one  of  armourers,  or  gunsmiths,  when  the  wearing  of 
weapons  went  into  desuetude — there  being  then  no  further  necessity  for  the  expedition  and 
expediency  of  the  modem  political  economist's  boasted  'division  of  labour.'  As  the  above 
arts  gave  way,  those  which  tended  to  provide  the  comforts  and  luxuries  of  civilised  life 
gradually  arose.  About  1586,  we  find  the  first  notice  of  locksmiths  in  Edinburgh,  and  there 
was  then  only  one  of  the  trade,  whose  essay  was  simply  '  a  kist  lock.'  In  1609,  however, 
as  the  security  of  property  increased,  the  essay  was  '  a  kist  lock  and  a  hing,  and  bois  lock, 
with  an  double  plate  lock ; '  and  in  1644,  '  a  key  and  sprent  band '  were  added  to  the  essay- 
In  1682,  'a  cruik  and  cruik  band'  were  further  added;  and  in  1728,  for  the  safety  of  the 
lieges,  the  locksmith's  essay  was  appointed  to  be  '  a  cruik  and  cruik  band,  a  pass  lock  with 
a  round  filled  bridge,  not  cut  or  broke  in  the  backside,  with  nobs  and  jamb  bound.'  In 
^595)  we  find  the  first  notice  of  shearsmiths.  In  i6og,  a  heckle-maker  was  admitted  into 
the  Corporation  of  Hammermen.  In  1613,  a  tinkler  makes  his  appearance ;  Thomas 
Duncan,  the  first  tinkler,  was  then  admitted.  Pewterers  are  mentioned  so  far  back  as 
15SS.  In  1647,  we  find  the  first  knock-maker  [clock-maker),  but  so  limited  was  his  business, 
that  he  was  also  a  locksmith.  In  1664,  the  first  white-iron  man  was  admitted — also  the 
first  harness-maker,  though  lorimers  had  previously  existed.  Paul  Martin,  a  distressed 
French  Protestant,  in  1691,  was  the  first  manufacturer  of  surgical  instruments  in  Edinburgh. 
In  1720,  we  find  the  first  pin-maker ;  in  1764,  the  first  edge-tool  maker  and  first  fish-hook 
malier. 


256  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

LADY   LOVAT. 

The  widow  of  the  rebel  Lord  Lovat  spent  a  great  portion  of  a 
long  widowhood,  and  died  (1796)  in  a  house  at  the  head  of 
Blackfriars  Wynd. 

Her  ladyship  was  a  niece  of  the  first  Duke  of  Argyll,  and 
bom,  as  she  herself  expressed  it,  in  the  year  Ten — that  is,  17 10. 
The  politic  Mac  Shemus*  marked  her  out  as  a  suitable  second 
wife,  in  consideration  of  the  value  of  the  Argyll  connection. 
As  he  was  above  thirty  years  her  senior,  and  not  famed  for  the 
tenderest  treatment  of  his  former  spouse,  or  for  any  other 
amiable  trait  of  disposition,  she  endeavoured,  by  all  gentle 
means,  to  avoid  the  match;  but  it  was  at  length  effected 
through  the  intervention  of  her  relations,  and  she  was  carried 
north  to  take  her  place  in  the  semi-barbarous  state  which  her 
husband  held  at  Castle  Downie. 

Nothing  but  misery  could  have  been  expected  from  such  an 
alliance.  The  poor  young  lady,  while  treated  with  external 
decorum,  was,  in  private,  subjected  to  such  usage  as  might  have 
tried  the  spirit  of  a  Griselda.  She  was  occasionally  kept 
confined  in  a  room  by  herself,  from  which  she  was  not  allowed 
to  come  forth  even  at  meals,  only  a  scanty  supply  of  coarse 
food  being  sent  to  her  from  his  lordship's  table.  When 
pregnant,  her  husband  coolly  told  her  that,  if  she  brought  forth 
a  girl,  he  would  put  it  on  the  back  of  the  fire.  His  eldest  son 
by  the  former  marriage  was  a  sickly  child.  Lovat,  therefore, 
deemed  it  necessary  to  raise  a  strong  motive  in  the  step-mother 
for  the  child  being  taken  due  care  of  during  his  absence  in  the 
Lowlands.  On  going  from  home,  he  would  calmly  inform  her 
that  any  harm  befalling  the  boys  in  his  absence  would  be 
attended  with  the  penalty  of  her  o\vn  death,  for,  in  that  event, 
he  would  undoubtedly  shoot  her  through  the  head.  It  is  added 
that  she  did,  from  this,  in  addition  to  other  motives,  take  an 
unusual  degree  of  care  of  her  step-son,  who  ever  after  felt 
towards  her  the  tenderest  love  and  gratitude.     One  is  disposed 

*  The  Highland  appellative  of  Lord  Lovat,  expressing  tlie  son  of  Simon. 


LADY   LOVAT.  257 

to  believe  that  there  must  be  some  exaggeration  in  these  stories; 
and  yet,  when  we  consider  that  it  is  a  historical  fact  that  Lovat 
applied  to  Prince  Charles  for  a  warrant  to  take  President  Forbes 
dead  or  alive  (Forbes  being  his  friend  and  daily  intimate),  it 
seems  no  extravagance  that  he  should  have  acted  in  this  manner 
to  his  wife.  Sir  Walter  Scott  tells  an  additional  story,  which 
helps  out  the  picture.  '  A  lady,  the  intimate  friend  of  her  youth, 
was  instructed  to  visit  Lady  Lovat  as  if  by  accident,  to  ascertain 
the  truth  of  those  rumours  concerning  her  husband's  conduct, 
which  had  reached  the  ears  of  her  family.  She  was  received  by 
Lord  Lovat  with  an  extravagant  affectation  of  welcome,  and 
with  many  assurances  of  the  happiness  his  lady  would  receive 
from  seeing  her.  The  chief  then  went  to  the  lonely  tower  in 
which  Lady  Lovat  was  secluded,  without  decent  clothes,  and 
even  without  sufficient  nourishment.  He  laid  a  dress  before  her 
becoming  her  rank,  commanded  her  to  put  it  on,  to  appear,  and 
to  receive  her  friend  as  if  she  were  the  mistress  of  the  house ;  in 
which  she  was,  in  fact,  a  naked  and  half-starved  prisoner.  And 
such  was  the  strict  watch  which  he  maintained,  and  the  terror 
which  his  character  inspired,  that  the  visitor  durst  not  ask,  nor 
Lady  Lovat  communicate,  anything  respecting  her  real  situation.'  * 
Afterwards,  by  a  letter  rolled  up  in  a  clue  of  yarn,  and  dropped 
over  a  window  to  a  confidential  person,  she  was  enabled  to  let 
her  friends  know  how  matters  actually  stood;  and  steps  were 
then  taken  to  obtain  her  separation  from  her  husband.  When, 
some  years  later,  his  political  perfidy  had  brought  him  to  the 
Tower — forgetting  all  past  injuries,  and  thinking  only  of  her 
duty  as  a  wife.  Lady  Lovat  offered  to  come  to  London  to 
attend  him.  He  returned  an  answer,  declining  the  proposal, 
and  containing  the  only  expressions  of  kindness  and  regard 
which  she  had  ever  received  from  him  since  her  marriage. 

The  singular  character  of  Lord  Lovat  makes  almost  every 
particular  regarding  him  worth  collecting. 

Previous  to  1745,  when  the  late  Mr  Alexander  BaiUie  of 
Dochfour  was  a  student  at  the  grammar-school^  of  Inverness, 

*  Quarterly  Review,  vol.  xiv.  p.  326. 


258  TRADITIONS   OF  EDINBURGH. 

cock-fights  were  very  common  among  the  boys.  This  detestable 
sport,  by  the  way,  was  encouraged  by  the  schoolmasters  of  those 
days,  who  derived  a  profit  fi-om  the  beaten  cocks,  or,  as  they 
were  called,  fugies,  which  became,  at  the  end  of  every  game,, 
their  appropriated  perquisite.  In  pursuit  of  cocks,  Mr  Baillie 
went .  to  visit  his  friends  in  the  Aird,  and  in  the  course  of  his 
researches  was  introduced  to  Lord  Lovat,  whose  policy  it  was, 
on  all  occasions,  to  shew  great  attentions  to  his  neighbours  and 
their  children.  The  situation  in  which  his  lordship  was  found 
by  the  school-boy  was — if  not  quite  unprecedented — ^nevertheless 
rather  surprising.  He  was  stretched  out  in  bed  between  two 
Highland  lasses,  who,  on  being  seen,  affected,  out  of  modesty, 
to  hide  their  faces  under  the  bedclothes.  The  old  lord 
accounted  for  this  strange  scene  by  saying  that  his  blood  had 
become  cold,  and  he  was  obliged  to  supply  the  want  of  heat  by 
the  application  of  animal  warmth. 

It  is  said  that  he  lay  in  bed  for  the  most  part  of  the  two 
years  preceding  the  Rebellion ;  till,  hearing  of  Prince  Charles's 
arrival  in  Arisaig,  he  roused  himself  with  sudden  vehemence, 
crying  to  an  attendant :  '  Lassie,  bring  me  my  brogues — I  '11 
rise  noo  !^ 

One  of  his  odd  fancies  was  to  send  a  retainer  every  day  to 
Loch  Ness,  a  distance  of  eight  miles,  for  the  water  he  drank. 

His  intimacy  with  his  neighbour,  President  Forbes,  is  an 
amusing  affair,  for  the  men  must  have  secretly  known  full  well 
what  each  other  was,  and  yet  policy  made  them  keep  on  decent 
terms  for  a  long  course  of  years.  Lovat's  son  by  the  subject  of 
this  notice — the  Honourable  Archibald  Campbell  Fraser — was  a 
boy  at  Petty  school  in  1745.  The  President  sometimes  invited 
him  to  dinner.  One  day,  pulling  a  handful  of  foreign  gold 
pieces  out  of  his  pocket,  he  carelessly  asked  the  boy  if  he  had 
ever  seen  such  coins  before.  Here  was  a  stroke  worthy  of 
Lovat  himself,  for  undoubtedly  he  meant  thus  to  be  informed 
whether  the  lord  of  Castle  Downie  was  accustomed  to  get 
remittances  for  the  Chevalier's  cause  from  abroad. 

After  the  death  of  Lord  Lovat,  there  arose  some  demur  about 


LADY  LOVAT.  259 

his  lady's  jointure,  which  was  only  ;^i9o  per  annum.  It  was 
not  paid  to  her  for  several  years,  during  which,  being  destitute 
of  other  resources,  she  lived  with  one  of  her  sisters.  Some  of 
her  numerous  friends — among  the  rest,  Lord  Strichen — offered 
her  the  loan  of  money,  to  purchase  a  house,  and  suffice  for 
present  maintenance.  But  she  did  not  choose  to  encumber 
herself  with  debts  which  she  had  no  certain  prospect  of  repaying. 
At  length  the  dispute  about  her  jointure  was  settled  in  a  favour- 
able manner,  and  her  ladyship  received  in  a  lump  the  amount 
of  past  dues,  out  of  which  she  expended  ^500  in  purchasing  a 
house  at  the  head  of  Blackfriars  Wynd,*  and  a  further  sum  upon 
a  suite  of  plain  substantial  furniture. 

It  would  surprise  a  modem  dowager  to  know  how  much  good 
Lady  Lovat  contrived  to  do  amongst  her  fellow-creatures  with 
this  small  allowance.  It  is  said  that  the  succeeding  Lady  of 
Lovat,  with  a  jointure  of  ;^4ooo,  was  less  distinguished  for  her 
benefactions.  In  Lady  Lovat's  dusky  mansion,  with  a  waiting- 
maid,  cook,  and  foot-boy,  she  not  only  maintained  herself  in 
the  style  of  a  gentlewoman,  but  could  welcome  every  kind  of 
Highland  ^  cousin  to  a  plain  but  hospitable  board,  and  even 
afford  permanent  shelter  to  several  unfortunate  friends.  A 
certain  Lady  Dorothy  Primrose,  who  was  her  niece,  lived  with 
her  for  several  years,  using  the  best  portion  of  her  house — 
namely,  the  rooms  fronting  the  High  Street,  while  she  herself 
was  contented  with  the  dtiller  apartments  towards  the  wynd. 
There  was  another  desolate  old  person,  styled  Mistress  of 
Elphinstone,  whom  Lady  Lovat  supported  as  a  friend  and 
equal  for  several  years.  Not  by  habit  a  card-player  herself, 
she  would  make  up  a  whist-party  every  week  for  the  benefit 
of  the  Mistress.  At  length  the  poor  Mistress  came  to  a  sad  fate. 
A  wicked,  perhaps  half-crazy  boy,  grandson  to  her  ladyship, 
having  taken  an  antipathy  to  his  venerable  relative,  put  poison 
into  the  oatmeal  porridge  which  she  was  accustomed  to  take  at 
supper.     Feeling  unwell  that  night,  she  did  not  eat  any,  and  the 

*  First  door  up  the  stair  at  the  head  of  the  \vynd,  on  the  west  side.     The  house  was 
burnt  down  in  1824,  but  rebuilt  in  its  former  arrangement. 


26o  TRADITIONS    OF   EDINBURGH. 

Mistress  took  the  porridge  instead,  of  which  she  died.      The 
boy  was  sent  away,  and  died  in  obscurity. 

An  unostentatious  but  sincere  piety  marked  the  character  of 
Lady  Lovat.  Perhaps  her  notions  of  Providence  were  carried 
to  the  verge  of  a  kind  of  fatalism;  for  not  merely  did  she 
receive  all  crosses  and  troubles  as  trials  arranged  for  her  benefit 
by  a  High  Hand,  but  when  a  neighbouring  house  on  one 
occasion  took  fire,  she  sat  unmoved  in  her  own  mansion,  not- 
withstanding the  entreaties  of  the  magistrates,  who  ordered  a 
sedan  to  be  brought  for  her  removal.  She  said,  if  her  hour  was 
come,  it  would  be  vain  to  try  to  elude  her  fate ;  and  if  it  was 
not  come,  she  would  be  safe  where  she  was.  She  had  a  con- 
scientiousness almost  ludicrously  nice.  If  detained  from  church 
on  any  occasion,  she  always  doubled  her  usual  oblation  at  the 
plate  next  time.  When  her  chimney  took  fire,  she  sent  her  fine 
to  the  Town-guard  before  they  knew  the  circumstance.  Even 
the  tax-collector  experienced  her  ultra-rectitude.  When  he 
came  to  examine  her  windows,  she  took  him  to  a  closet  lighted 
by  a  single  pane,  looking  into  a  narrow  passage  between  two 
houses.  He  hesitated  about  charging  for  such  a  small  modicum 
of  light,  but  her  ladyship  insisted  on  his  taking  note  ©f  it. 

Lady  Lovat  was  of  small  stature,  had  been  thought  a  beauty, 
and  retained,  in  advanced  old  age,  much  of  her  youthful  deHcacy 
of  features  and  complexion.  Her  countenance  bore  a  remark- 
ably sweet  and  pleasing  expression.  When  at  home,  her  dress 
was  a  red  silk  gown,  with  ruffled  cuffs,  and  sleeves  puckered  like 
a  man's  shirt;  a  fly-cap,  encircling  the  head,  with  a  mob-cap 
laid  across  it,  falUng  down  over  the  cheeks,  and  tied  under  the 
chin;  her  hair  dressed  and  powdered;  a  double  muslin  hand- 
kerchief round  the  neck  and  bosom;  lanwier-beads ;  a  white 
lawn  apron,  edged  with  lace ;  black  stockings,  with  red  gushets ; 
high-heeled  shoes.*  She  usually  went  abroad  in  a  chair,  as  I 
have  been  informed  by  the  daughter  of  a  lady  who  was  one  of 
the  first  inhabitants  of  the  New  Town,  and  whom  Lady  Lovat 

*  An  old  domestic  of  her  ladyship's  preserved  one  of  her  shoes  as  a  relic  for  many  yeais> 
The  heel  was  three  inches  deep. 


LADY   LOVAT.  '  26 1 

regularly  visited  there  once  every  three  months.  As  her  chair 
emerged  from  the  head  of  Blackfriars  W3md,  any  one  who  saw 
her  sitting  in  it,  so  neat,  and  fresh,  and  clean,  would  have  taken 
her  for  a  queen  in  wax-work,  pasted  up  in  a  glass  case. 

Lady  Lovat  was  intimate  with  Lady  Jane  Douglas ;  and  one 
of  the  strongest  evidences  in  favour  of  Lord  Douglas  being  the 
son  of  that  lady,  was  the  following  remarkable  circumstance : 
Lady  Lovat,  passing  by  a  house  in  the  High  Street,  saw  a  child 
at  a  window,  and  remarked  to  a  friend  who  was  with  her :  '  If  I 
thought  Lady  Jane  Douglas  could  be  in  Edinburgh,  I  would 
say  that  was  her  child — he  is  so  like  her!'  Upon  returning 
home,  she  found  a  note  from  Lady  Jane,  informing  her  that  she 

had  just  arrived  in  Edinburgh,  and  had  taken  lodgings  in  ■ 

Land,  which  proved  to  be  the  house  in  which  Lady  Lovat  had 
observed  the  child,  and  that  child  was  young  Archibald  Douglas. 
Lady  Lovat  was  a  person  of  such  strict  integrity,  that  no  con- 
sideration could  have  tempted  her  to  say  what  she  did  not  think; 
and  at  the  time  she  saw  the  child,  she  had  no  reason  to  suppose 
that  Lady  Jane  was  in  Scotland. 

Such  was  the  generosity  of  her  disposition,  that  when  her 
grandson  Simon  was  studying  law,  she  at  various  times  presented 
him  with  ;^5o,  and  when  he  was  to  pass  as  an  advocate,  she 
sent  him  ;^ioo.  It  was  wonderful  how  she  could  spare  such 
sums  from  her  small  jointure.  Whole  tribes  of  grand-nephews 
and  grand-nieces  experienced  the  goodness  of  her  heart,  and 
loved  her  with  almost  filial  affection.  She  frequently  spoke  to 
them  of  her  misfortunes,  and  was  accustomed  to  say:  'I  daresay, 
bairns,  the  events  of  my  life  would  make  a  good  novelle;  but 
they  have  been  of  so  strange  a  nature,  that  nobody  would 
believe  them' — meaning  that  they  wanted  the  vraisemUance 
necessary  in  fiction.  She  contemplated  the  approach  of  death 
with  fortitude,  and,  in  anticipation  of  her  obsequies,  had  her 
grave-clothes  ready,  and  the  stair  whitewashed.  Yet  the  disposal 
of  her  poor  remains  little  troubled  her.  When  asked  by  her  son 
if  she  wished  to  be  placed  in  the  burial-vault  at  Beaufort,  she 
said :  '  'Deed,  Archie,  ye  needna  put  yoursel'  to  ony  fash  about 


262  TRADITIONS   OF  EDINBURGH. 

me,  for  I  dinna  care  though  ye  lay  me  aneath  that  hearthstane  1 ' 
After  all,  it  chanced,  from  some  misarrangements,  that  her 
funeral  was  not  very  promptly  executed;  whereupon  a  Miss 
Hepburn  of  Humbie,  living  in  a  floor  above,  remarked,  'she 
wondered  what  they  were  keeping  her  sae  lang  for — stinkin'  a' 
the  stair.'  This  gives  some  idea  of  circumstances  connected 
with  Old-town  life. 

The  conduct  of  her  ladyship's  son  in  life  was  distinguished  by 
a  degree  of  eccentricity  which,  in  connection  with  that  of  his 
son  already  stated,  tends  to  raise  a  question  as  to  the  character 
of  Lord  Lovat,  and  make  us  suspect  that  wickedness  so  great 
as  his  could  only  result  from  a  certain  unsoundness  of  mind. 
It  is  admitted,  however,  that  the  eldest  son,  Simon,  who  rose  to 
be  a  major-general  in  the  army,  was  a  man  of  respectable 
character.  He  retained  nothing  of  his  father  but  a  genius  for 
making  fine  speeches.  The  late  Mrs  Murray  of  Henderland 
told  me  she  was  present  at  a  supper-party  given  by  some  gentle- 
man in  the  Horse  Wynd,  where  General  Fraser,  eating  his  egg, 

said  to  the  hostess :  *  Mrs  ,  other  people's  eggs  overflow 

with  milk;  but  yours  run  over  with  cream  P 


THE    COWGATE. 

House  of  Gavin  Douglas  the  Poet — Skirmish  of  Cleanse-the-Causeway — 
College  Wynd — Birthplace  of  Sir  Walter  Scott — The  Horse  Wynd — 
Tam  o'  the  Cowgate — Magdalen  Chapel. 

Looking  at  the  present  state  of  this  ancient  street,  it  is  impos- 
sible to  hear  without  a  smile  the  description  of  it  given  by 
Alexander  Alesse  about  the  year  1530 — Ubi  nihil  est  humik 
aut  rustiawi,  sed  omfiia  magnified  I  ('  Where  nothing  is  humble 
or  homely,  but  everything  magnificent!')  The  street  was,  he 
tells  us,  that  in  which  the  nobles  and  judges  resided,  and  where 


^      HOUSE   OF   GAVIN   DOUGLAS   THE   POET.  263 

the  palaces  of  princes  were  situated.  The  idea  usually  enter- 
tained of  its  early  history  is,  that  it  rose  as  an  elegant  suburb 
after  the  year  1460,  when  the  existing  city,  consisting  of  the 
High  Street  alone,  was  enclosed  in  a  wall.  It  would  appear, 
however,  that  some  part  of  it  was  built  before  that  time,  and 
that  it  was  in  an  advanced,  if  not  complete,  state  as  a  street 
not  long  after.  It  was  to  enclose  this  esteemed  suburb  that  the 
city  wall  was  extended  after  the  battle  of  Flodden. 

HOUSE   OF   GAVIN   DOUGLAS   THE   POET — SKIRMISH    OF 
CLEANSE-THE-CAUSEWAY. 

So  early  as  1449,  Thomas  Lauder,  canon  of  Aberdeen,  granted 
an  endowment  of  40s.  annually  to  a  chaplain  in  St  Giles's 
Church,  '  out  of  his  own  house  lying  in  the  Cowgaite,  betwixt 
the  land  of  the  Abbot  of  Melrose  on  the  east,  and  of  George 
Cochrane  on  the  west.'  This  appears  to  have  been  the  same 
Thomas  Lauder  who  was  preceptor  to  James  II.,  and  who 
ultimately  became  Bishop  of  Dunkeld.  We  are  told  that,  besides 
many  other  munificent  acts,  he  purchased  a  lodging  in  Edinburgh 
for  himself  and  his  successors.^  That  its  situation  was  the  same 
as  that  above  described,  appears  from  a  charter  of  Thomas 
Cameron  in  1498,  referring  to  a  house  on  the  south  side  of  the 
Cowgate,  *  betwixt  the  Bishop  of  Dimkeld's  land  on  the  east, 
and  William  Rappilowe's  on  the  west,  the  common  street  on 
the  north,  and  the  gait  that  leads  to  the  Kirk-of-Field  on  the 
south.' 

From  these  descriptions,  we  attain  a  tolerably  distinct  idea  of 
the  site  of  the  house  of  the  bishops  of  Dunkeld  in  Edinburgh, 
including,  of  course,  one  who  is  endeared  to  us  from  a  peculiar 
cause — Gavin  Douglas,  who  succeeded  to  the  see  in  15 16. 
This  house  must  have  stood  nearly  opposite  to  the  bottom  of 
Niddry  Street,  but  somewhat  to  the  eastward.  It  would  have 
gardens  behind,  extending  up  to  the  line  of  the  present  Infirmary 
Street. 

We   thus  not  only  have   the  pleasure   of  ascertaining  the 

*  Myla's  Lives  of  the  Bishops  of  Dunkeld.    Edinburgh,  1831. 


264  TRADITIONS    OF   EDINBURGH. 

Edinburgh  whereabouts  of  one  of  our  most  distinguished 
national  poets ;  but  we  can  now  read,  with  a  somewhat  clearer 
intelligence,  a  remarkable  chapter  in  the  national  history. 

It  was  in  April  1520  that  the  Hamiltons  (the  party  of  the 
Earl  of  Arran),  with  Bethune,  Archbishop  of  Glasgow,  called  an 
assembly  of  the  nobility  in  Edinburgh,  in  order  to  secure  the 
government  for  the  earl.  The  rival  magnate,  the  Earl  of  Angus, 
soon  saw  danger  to  himself  in  the  great  crowds  of  the  Hamilton 
party  which  flocked  into  town.  Indeed  warlike  courses  seem 
to  have  been  determined  on  by  that  side.  Angus  sent  his  uncle, 
the  bishop  of  Dunkeld,  to  caution  them  against  any  violence ; 
and  to  offer  that  he  should  submit  to  the  laws,  if  any  offence 
were  laid  to  his  charge.  The  reverend  prelate,  proceeding  to 
the  place  of  assembly,  which  was  in  the  archbishop's  house,  at 
the  foot  of  Blackfriars  Wjnid,  found  the  Hamilton  party 
obstinate.  Thinking  an  archbishop  could  not  or  ought  not  to 
allow  strife  to  take  place  if  he  could  help  it,  he  appealed  to 
Bethune,  who,  however,  had  actually  prepared  for  battle,  by 
putting  on  armour  under  his  rochet.  '  Upon  my  conscience, 
my  lord,'  said  Bethune,  '  I  know  nothing  of  the  matter,'  at  the 
same  time  striking  his  hand  upon  his  breast,  which  caused  the 
armour  to  return  a  rattling  sound.  Douglas's  remark  was 
simply,  '  Your  conscience  clatters ; '  a  happy  pun  for  the 
occasion,  clatter  being  a  Scotch  word  signifying  to  tell  tales. 
Gavin  then  returned  to  his  lodging,  and  told  his  nephew  that 
he  must  do  his  best  to  defend  himself  with  arms.  '  For  me,'  he 
said,  '  I  will  go  to  my  chamber  and  pray  for  you.'  With  our 
new  light  as  to  the  locality  of  the  Bishop  of  Dunkeld's  lodging, 
we  now  know  that  Angus  and  his  uncle  held  their  consultations 
on  this  occasion  within  fifty  yards  of  the  house  in  which  the 
Hamiltons  were  assembled.  The  houses,  in  fact,  nearly  faced 
each  other  in  the  same  narrow  street. 

Angus  now  put  himself  at  the  head  of  his  followers,  who, 
though  not  numerous,  stood  in  a  compact  body  in  the  High 
Street.  They  were,  moreover,  the  favourites  of  the  Edinburgh 
citizens,  who  handed  spears  from  their  windows  to  such  as  were 


COLLEGE  WYND.  265 

not  armed  with  that  useful  weapon.  Presently  the  Hamiltons 
came  thronging  up  from  the  Cowgate,  through  narrow  lanes, 
and  entering  the  High  Street  in  separate  streams,  armed  with 
swords  only,  were  at  a  great  disadvantage.  In  a  short  time  the 
Douglases  had  cleared  the  streets  of  them,  killing  many,  and 
obliging  Arran  himself  and  his  son  to  make  their  escape  through 
the  North  Loch,  mounted  on  a  coal-horse.  Archbishop  Bethune, 
with  others,  took  refuge  in  the  Blackfriars'  Monastery,  where  he 
was  seized  behind  the  altar,  and  in  danger  of  his  life,  when 
Gavin  Douglas,  learning  his  perilous  situation,  flew  to  save  him, 
and  with  difficulty  succeeded  in  his  object.  Here,  too,  local 
knowledge  is  important.  The  Blackfriars'  Monastery  stood 
where  the  High  School  latterly  was,  a  spot  not  more  than  a 
hundred  yards  from  the  houses  of  both  Bethune  and  Gavin 
Douglas.  It  would  not  necessarily  require  more  than  five 
minutes  to  apprise  Douglas  of  Bethune's  situation,  and  bring 
him  to  the  rescue. 

The  popular  name  given  to  this  street  battle  is  characteristic 
— Cleanse-the-  Causeway. 

COLLEGE  WYND — BIRTHPLACE   OF   SIR  WALTER   SCOTT. 

The  old  buildings  of  the  College  of  Edinburgh,  themselves 
mean,  had  for  their  main  access,  in  former  times,  only  that 
narrow  dismal  alley  called  the  College  Wynd,  leading  up  from 
the  Cowgate.  Facing  down  this  humble  lane  was  the  gateway, 
displaying  a  richly  ornamented  architrave.  The  wynd  itself, 
strange  as  the  averment  may  now  appear,  was  the  abode  of 
many  of  the  professors.  The  illustrious  Joseph  Black  lived  at 
one  time  in  a  house  adjacent  to  the  College  gate,  on  the  east 
side,  afterwards  removed  to  make  way  for  North  College  Street. 
Another  floor  of  the  same  building  was  occupied  by  Mr  Keith, 
father  of  the  late  Sir  Alexander  Keith  of  Ravelston,  Bart. ;  and 
there  did  the  late  Lord  Keith  reside  in  his  student-days.  There 
was  a  tradition,  but  of  a  vague  nature,  that  Goldsmith,  when 
studying  at  the  Edinburgh  university,  lived  in  the  College 
Wynd. 


266  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

The  one  peculiar  glory  of  this  humble  place  remains  to  be 
mentioned — its  being  the  birthplace  of  Sir  Walter  Scott.  In  the 
third  floor  of  the  house  just  described,  accessible  by  an  entry 
leading  to  a  common  stair  behind,  did  this  distinguished  person 
first  see  the  light,  August  15,  1771.  It  was  a  house  of  plain 
aspect,  like  many  of  its  old  neighbours  yet  surviving ;  its  truest 
disadvantage,  however,  being  in  the  unhealthiness  of  the  situa- 
tion, to  which  Sir  Walter  himself  used  to  attribute  the  early 
deaths  of  several  brothers  and  sisters  bom  before  him.  When 
the  house  was  required  to  give  way  for  the  public  conveniency, 
the  elder  Scott  received  a  fair  price  for  his  portion  of  it :  he  had 
previously  removed  to  an  airier  mansion,  No.  25  George  Square, 
where  Sir  Walter  spent  his  boyhood  and  youth. 

In  the  course  of  a  walk  through  this  part  of  the  town,  in 
1825,  Sir  Walter  did  me  the  honour  to  point  out  the  site  of  the 
house  in  which  he  had  been  born.  On  his  mentioning  that  his 
father  had  got  a  good  price  for  his  share  of  it,  in  order  that  it 
might  be  taken  down  for  the  public  convenience,  I  took  the- 
liberty  of  jocularly  expressing  my  belief  that  more  money  might 
have  been  made  of  it,  and  the  public  certainly  much  more 
gratified,  if  it  had  remained  to  be  shewn  as  the  birthplace  of  a 
man  who  had  written  so  many  popular  books.  '  Ay,  ay,'  said 
Sir  Walter,  '  that  is  very  well ;  but  I  am  afraid  I  should  have 
required  to  be  dead  first,  and  that  would  not  have  been  so 
comfortable,  you  know.' 

In  the  transition  state  of  the  College,  from  old  to  new 
buildings,  the  gate  at  the  head  of  the  wynd  was  shut  up  by 
Principal  Robertson,  who,  however,  living  within  the  walls, 
found  this  passage  convenient  as  an  access  to  the  town,  and 
used  it  accordingly.  It  became  the  joke  of  a  day,  that  from 
being  the  principal  gate,  it  had  become  only  a  gate  for  the 
Principal. 

THE   HORSE   WYND. 

This  alley,  connecting  the  Cowgate  with  the  grounds  on  the 
south  side  of  the  town  -within  the  walls,  and  broad  enough  for  a 


TAM    O'   THE   COWGATE.  267 

carriage,  is  understood  to  have  derived  its  name  from  an  inn 
which  long  ago  existed  at  its  head,  where  the  Gaehc  Church 
long  after  stood.  Although  the  name  is  at  least  as  old  as  the 
middle  of  the  seventeenth  century,  none  of  the  buildings  appear 
older  than  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth.  They  had  all  been 
renewed  by  people  desirous  of  the  benefit  of  such  air  as  was  to 
be  had  in  an  alley  double  the  usual  breadth.  Very  respectable 
members  of  the  bar  were  glad  to  have  a  flat  in  some  of  the  tall 
lands  on  the  east  side  of  the  wynd. 

On  the  west  side  of  the  wynd,  about  the  middle,  the  Earl  of 
Galloway  had  built  a  distinct  mansion,  ornamented  with  vases 
at  top.  They  kept  a  coach  and  six,  and  it  was  alleged  that 
when  the  Countess  made  calls,  the  leaders  were  sometimes  at 
the  door  she  was  going  to,  when  she  was  stepping  into  the 
carriage  at  her  own  door.  This  may  be  called  a  tour  de  force 
illustration  of  the  nearness  of  friends  to  each  other  in  Old 
Edinburgh. 

TAM   0'   THE   COWGATE. 

A  court  of  old  buildings,  in  a  massive  style  of  architecture, 
existed,  previous  to  1829,  on  a  spot  in  the  Cowgate  now  occupied 
by  the  southern  piers  of  George  IV.  Bridge.  In  the  middle  of 
the  last  century,  it  was  used  as  the  Excise-oflice ;  but  even  this 
was  a  kind  of  declension  from  its  original  character.  It  is  certain 
that  the  celebrated  Thomas  Hamilton,  first  Earl  of  Haddington, 
President  of  the  Court  of  Session,  and  Secretary  of  State  for 
Scotland,  lived  here  at  the  end  of  the  sixteenth  century,  renting 
the  house  from  Macgill  of  Rankeillour.  This  distinguished 
person,  from  the  circumstance  of  his  living  here,  was  endowed 
by  his  master,  King  James,  with  the  nickname  of  Tam  o'  the 
CowGATE,  under  which  title  he  is  now  better  remembered  than 
by  any  other. 

The  earl,  who  had  risen  through  high  legal  offices  to  the 
peerage,  and  who  was  equally  noted  for  his  penetration  as  a 
judge,  his  industry  as  a  collector  of  decisions,  and  his  talent  for 
amassing  wealth,  was  one  evening,  after  a.  day's  hard  labour  in 

R 


268  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

the  public  service,  solacing  himself  with  a  friend  over  a  flask  of 
wine  in  his  house  in  the  Cowgate  * — attired,  for  his  better  ease, 
in  a  night-gown,  cap,  and  slippers — when  he  was  suddenly 
disturbed  by  a  great  hubbub  which  arose  under  his  window  in 
the  street.  This  soon  turned  out  to  be  a  bicker  between  the 
High  School  youths  and  those  of  the  College;  and  it  also 
appeared  that  the  latter,  fully  victorious,  were,  notwithstanding 
a  valiant  defence,  in  the  act  of  driving  their  antagonists  before 
them.  The  Earl  of  Haddington's  sympathies  were  awakened 
in  favour  of  the  retiring  party,  for  he  had  been  brought  up  at 
the  High  School,  and  going  thence  to  complete  his  education  at 
Paris,  had  no  similar  reason  to  affect  the  College.  He  therefore 
sprung  up,  dashed  into  the  street,  sided  with  and  rallied  the 
fugitives,  and  took  a  most  animated  share  in  the  combat  that 
ensued,  so  that  finally  the  High  School  youths,  acquiring  fresh 
strength  and  valour  at  seeing  themselves  befriended  by  the 
prime  judge  and  privy-councillor  of  their  country  (though  not 
in  his  most  formidable  habiliments),  succeeded  in  turning  the 
scale  of  victory  upon  the  College  youths,  in  spite  of  their 
superior  individual  ages  and  strength.  The  earl,  who  assumed 
the  command  of  the  party,  and  excited  their  spirits  by  word 
as  well  as  action,  was  not  content  till  he  had  pursued  the 
Collegianers  through  the  Grassmarket,  and  out  at  the  West  Port, 
the  gate  of  which  he  locked  against  their  return,  thus  compelling 
them  to  spend  the  night  in  the  suburbs  and  the  fields.  He 
then  returned  home  in  triumph  to  his  castle  of  comfort  in  the 
Cowgate,  and  resumed  the  enjoyment  of  his  friend  and  flask. 
We  can  easily  imagine  what  a  rare  jest  this  must  have  been  for 
King  Jamie. 

When  this  monarch  visited  Scotland  in  1617,  he  found  the 
old  statesman  very  rich,  and  was  informed  that  the  people 
believed  him  to  be  in  possession  of  the  Philosopher's  Stone ; 
there  being    no   other  feasible  mode   of   accounting  for  his 

*  Most  of  the  traditionary  anecdotes  in  this  article  were  communicated  by  Charles, 
eighth  Earl  of  Haddington,  through  conversation  with  Sir  Walter  Scott,  by  whom  they 
were  directly  imparted  to  the  author. 


TAM   O'   THE   COWGATE.  269 

immense  wealth,  which  rather  seemed  the  effect  of  supernatural 
agency  than  of  worldly  prudence  or  talent.  King  James,  quite 
tickled  with  the  idea  of  the  Philosopher's  Stone,  and  of  so 
enviable  a  talisman  having  fallen  into  the  hands  of  a  Scottish 
judge,  was  not  long  in  letting  his  friend  and  gossip  know  of  the 
story  which  he  had  heard  respecting  him.  The  Lord  President 
immediately  invited  the  king,  and  the  rest  of  the  company 
present,  to  come  to  his  house  next  day,  when  he  would  both  do 
his  best  to  give  them  a  good  dinner,  and  lay  open  to  them  the 
mystery  of  the  Philosopher's  Stone.  This  agreeable  invitation 
was  of  course  accepted;  and  the  next  day  saw  his  Cowgate 
palazzo  thronged  with  king  and  courtiers,  all  of  whom  the 
President  feasted  to  their  hearts'  content.  After  dinner,  the 
king  reminded  him  of  his  Philosopher's  Stone,  and  expressed 
his  anxiety  to  be  speedily  made  acquainted  with  so  rare  a 
treasure,  when  the  pawky  lord  addressed  his  majesty  and  the 
company  in  a  short  speech,  concluding  with  this  information, 
that  his  whole  secret  lay  in  two  simple  and  familiar  maxims — 
'Never  put  off  till  to-morrow  what  can  be  done  to-day;  nor 
ever  trust  to  another's  hand  what  your  own  can  execute.'  He 
might  have  added,  from  the  works  of  an  illustrious  contem- 
porary : 

'  This  is  the  only  witchcraft  I  have  used ; ' 

and  none  could  have  been  more  effectual. 

A  ludicrous  idea  is  obtained  from  the  following  anecdote  of 
the  estimation  in  which  the  wisdom  of  the  Earl  of  Haddington 
was  held  by  the  king,  and  at  the  same  time,  perhaps,  of  that 
singular  monarch's  usual  mode,  of  speech.  It  must  be  under- 
stood, by  way  of  prefatory  illustration,  that  King  James,  who 
was  the  author  6f  the  earl's  popular  appellation,  '  Tam  d  the 
Cowgate^  had  a  custom  of  bestowing  such  ridiculous  sobriquets 
on  his  principal  councillors  and  courtiers.  Thus  he  conferred 
upon  that  grave  and  sagacious  statesman,  John,  Earl  of  Mar, 
the  nickname,  Jock  <?'  Sklates — probably  in  allusion  to  some 
circumstance  which  occurred  in  their  young  days,  when  they 
were  the  fellow-pupils  of  Buchanan.     On  hearing  of  a  meditated 


270  TRADITIONS    OF   EDINBURGH. 

alliance  between  the  Haddington  and  Mar  families,  his  majesty 
exclaimed,  betwixt  jest  and  earnest :  'The  Lord  haud  a  grup  o' 
me !  If  Tam  o'  the  Cowgate's  son  marry  Jock  o'  Sklates's 
daughter,  what's  to  come  o'  meV  The  good-natured  monarch 
probably  apprehended  that  so  close  a  union  betwixt  two  of  his 
most  subtle  statesmen,  might  make  them  too  much  for  their 
master — as  hounds  are  most  dangerous  when  they  hunt  in 
couples. 

The  Earl  of  Haddington  died  in  1637,  full  of  years  and 
honours.  At  Tynningham,  the  seat  of  his  family,  there  are  two 
portraits  of  his  lordship,  one  a  half-length,  the  other  a  head ;  as 
also  his  state-dress ;  and  it  is  a  circumstance  too  characteristic 
to  be  overlooked,  that  in  the  crimson-velvet  breeches  there  are 
no  fewer  than  nine  pockets !  Among  many  of  the  earl's  papers 
which  remain  in  Tynningham  House,  one  contains  a  memor- 
andum, conveying  a  curious  idea  of  the  way  in  which  public 
and  political  affairs  were  then  managed  in  Scotland.  The 
paper  details  the  heads  of  a  petition  in  his  own  handwriting  to 
the  Privy  Council ;  and  at  the  end  is  a  note  '  to  gar  [that  is, 
make]  the  chancellor '  do  something  else  in  his  behalf. 

A  younger  son  of  Tam  o'  the  Cowgate  was  a  person  of  much 
ingenuity,  and  was  popularly  known,  for  what  reason  I  cannot 
tell,  by  the  nickname  of  '  Dear  Sandie  Hamilton.'  He  had  a 
foundry  in  the  Potterrow,  where  he  fabricated  the  cannon 
employed  in  the  first  Covenanting  war  in  1639,  This  artillery, 
be  it  remarked,  was  not  'formed  exclusively  of  metal.  The 
greater  part  of  the  composition  was  leather ;  and  yet,  we  are 
informed,  they  did  some  considerable  execution  at  the  battle  of 
Newburnford,  above  Newcastle  (August  28,  1640),  where  the 
Scots  drove  a  large  advanced  party  of  Charles  I.'s  troops  before 
them,  thereby  causing  the  king  to  enter  into  a  new  treaty.  The 
cannon,  which  were  commonly  called  'Dear  Sandie's  Stoups,' 
were  carried  in  swivel  fashion  between  two  horses. 

The  Excise-office  had  been  removed,  about  1730,  from  the 
Parliament  Square  to  the  house  occupied  many  years  before  by 
Tam  o'  the  Cowgate.      It  afforded  excellent  accommodations 


Thomson's  bowling-green.  271 

for  this  Important  public  office.  The  principal  room  on  the 
second  floor,  towards  the  Cowgate,  was  a  very  superb  one, 
having  a  stucco  ceiling  divided  into  square  compartments,  each 
of  which  contained  some  elegant  device.  To  the  rear  of  the 
house  was  a  bowling-green,  which  the  Commissioners  of  Excise 
let  on  lease  to  a  person  of  the  name  of  Thomson.  In  those 
days  bowling  was  a  much  more  prevalent  amusement  than  now, 
being  chiefly  a  favourite  with  the  graver  order  of  the  citizens. 
There  were  then  no  fewer  than  three  bowling-greens  in  the 
grounds  around  Heriot's. Hospital;  one  in  the  Canongate,  near 
the  Tolbooth,  another  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  street,  another 
immediately  behind  the  palace  of  Holyrood  House,  where  the 
Duke  of  York  used  to  play  when  in  Scotland,  and  perhaps 
several  others  scattered  about  the  outskirts  of  the  town.  The 
arena  behind  the  Excise-office  was  called  Thomson's  Green, 
from  the  name  of  the  man  who  kept  it ;  and  it  may  be  worth 
while  to  remind  the  reader  that  it  is  alluded  to  in  that  pleasant- 
spirited  poem  by  Allan  Ramsay,  in  imitation  of  the  Vides  ixt 
alta  of  Horace  : 

'  Driving  their  ba's  frae  whins  or  tee, 

There 's  no  ae  gouffer  to  be  seen, 
Nor  doucer  folk  wysing  a-jee 

The  byas  bowls  on  Tamson's  green.' 

The  green  was  latterly  occupied  by  the  relict  of  this 
Thomson;  and  among  the  bad  debts  on  the  Excise  books,  all 
of  which  are  yearly  brought  forward  and  enumerated,  there  still 
stands  a  sum  of  something  more  than  six  pounds  against  Widow 
Thomson,  being  the  last  half-year's  rent  of  the  green,  which  the 
poor  woman  had  been  unable  to  pay.  The  north  side  of 
Brown's  Square  was  built  upon  part  of  this  space  of  ground; 
the  rest  remained  a  vacant  area  for  the  recreation  of  the  people 
dwelling  in  Merchant  Street,  until  the  erection  of  the  bridge, 
which  has  overrun  that,  as  well  as  every  other  part  of  the  scene 
of  this  article.* 

*  Near  by  is  the  Magdalen  Chapel,  a  curious  relic  of  the  sixteenth  century,  belonging  to 
the  Corporation  of  Hammermen.  It  was  erected  immediately  before  the  Reformation  by  a 
pious  citizen,  Michael  Macquhan,  and  Jonet  Rhynd,  his  widow,  whose  tomb  is  shewn  in 


'.J 2  TRADITIONS    OF   EDINBURGH. 


ST   CECILIA'S   HALL. 

Few  persons  now  living  (1847)  recollect  the  elegant  concerts 
that  were  given  many  years  ago  in  what  is  now  an  obscure  part 
of  our  ancient  city,  known  by  the  name  of  St  Cecilia's  Hall. 
They  did  such  honour  to  Edinburgh,  nearly  for  half  a  centuiy, 
that  I  feel  myself  called  on  to  make  a  brief  record  of  them,  and 
am  glad  to  be  enabled  to  do  so  by  a  living  authority,  one  of  the 
most  fervent  worshippers  in  the  temple  of  the  goddess.  Hear, 
then,  his  last  aria  pai'lante  on  this  interesting  theme. 

'  The  concerts  of  St  Cecilia's  Hall  formed  one  of  the  most 
liberal  and  attractive  amusements  that  any  city  in  Europe  could 
boast  of  The  hall  was  built  on  purpose  at  the  foot  of  Niddry's 
Wynd,  by  a  number  of  public-spirited  noblemen  and  gentlemen ; 
and  the  expense  of  the  concerts  was  defrayed  by  about  two 
hundred  subscribers  paying  two  or  three  guineas  each  annually; 
and  so  respectable  was  the  institution  considered,  that  upon  the 
death  of  a  member,  there  were  generally  several  applications  for 
the  vacancy,  as  is  now  the  case  with  the  Caledonian  Hunt.  The 
concerts  were  managed  by  a  governor  and  a  set  of  six  or  more 

the  floor.  The  windows  towards  the  south  were  anciently  filled  with  stained  glass  ;  and 
there  still  remain  some  specimens  of  that  kind  of  ornament,  which,  by  some  strange 
chance,  had  survived  the  Reformation.  In  a  large  department  at  the  top  of  one  window 
are  the  arms  of  Mary  of  Guise,  who  was  queen-regent  at  the  time  the  chapel  was  built. 
The  arms  of  Macquhan  and  his  wife  are  also  to  be  seen.  In  the  lower  panes,  which  have 
been  filled  with  small  figures  of  saints,  only  one  remains — a  St  Bartholomew — who,  by  a 
rare  chance,  has  survived  the  general  massacre.  The  whole  is  now  very  carefully  pre- 
served. When  the  distinguished  Reformer,  John  Craig,  returned  to  Scotland  at  the 
Reformation,  after  an  absence  of  twenty-four  years,  he  preached  for  some  time  in  this 
chapel  in  the  Latin  language,  to  a  select  congregation  of  the  learned,  being  unable,  by  long 
disuse,  to  hold  forth  in  his  vernacular  tongue.  This  divine  subsequently  was  appointed  a 
colleague  to  John  Knox,  and  is  distinguished  in  history  for  having  refused  to  publish  the 
banns  between  Queen  Mary  and  Bothwell,  and  also  for  having  written  the  National 
Covenant  in  1589.  Another  circumstance  in  the  history  of  this  chapel  is  worthy  of  notice. 
The  body  of  the  Earl  of  Argj'U,  after  his  execution,  June  30,  1685,  was  brought  down  and 
deposited  in  this  place,  to  wait  till  it  should  be  conveyed  to  the  family  burying-place  at 
Kilmun. 


ST   CECILIA  S   HALL.  273 

directors,  who  engaged  the  performers — the  principal  ones  from 
Italy,  one  or  two  from  Germany,  and  the  rest  of  the  orchestra 
was  made  up  of  English  and  native  artists.  The  concerts  were 
given  weekly  during  most  of  the  time  that  I  attended;  the 
instrumental  music  consisting  chiefly  of  the  concertos  of  Corelli 
and  Handel,  and  the  overtures  of  Bach,  Abel,  Stamitz,  Vanhall, 
and  latterly  of  Haydn  and  Pleyel ;  for  at  that  time,  and  till  a 
good  many  years  after,  the  magnificent  symphonies  of  Haydn, 
Mozart,  and  Beethoven,  which  now  form  the  most  attractive 
portions  of  all  public  concerts,  had  not  reached  this  country. 
Those  truly  grand  s)anphonies  do  not  seem  likely  to  be  super- 
seded by  any  similar  compositions  for  a  century  to  come, 
transcending  so  immensely,  as  they  do,  all  the  orchestral 
compositions  that  ever  before  appeared ;  yet  I  must  not  venture 
to  prophesy,  when  I  bear  in  mind  what  a  powerful  influence 
fashion  and  folly  exercise  upon  music,  as  well  as  upon  other 
objects  of  taste.  When  the  overtures  and  quartetts  of  Haydn 
first  found  their  way  into  this  country,  I  well  remember  with 
what  coldness  the  former  were  received  by  most  of  the  grave 
Handelians,  while  at  the  theatres  they  gave  delight.  The  old 
concert  gentlemen  said  that  his  compositions  wanted  the  solidity 
and  full  harmony  of  Handel  and  Corelli ;  and  when  the  cele- 
brated leader — the  elder  Cramer — visited  St  Cecilia's  Hall,  and 
played  a  spirited  charming  overture  of  Haydn's,  an  old  amateur 
next  to  whom  I  was  seated  asked  me:  "  Whase  music  is  that, 
now  ? "  "  Haydn's,  sir,"  said  I.  "  Poor  new-fangled  stuff," 
he  replied ;  "  I  hope  I  shall  never  hear  it  again  ! "  Many 
years  have  since  .rolled  away,  and  mark  what  some  among 
us  now  say :  A  friend  calling  lately  on  an  old  lady  much  in 
the  fashionable  circle  of  society,  heard  her  give  directions  to 
the  pianist  who  was  teaching  her  nieces  to  bring  them  some  new 
and  fashionable  pieces  of  music,  but  no  more  of  the  unfashio7i- 
able  compositions  of  Haydn  !  Alas  for  those  ladies  whose  taste 
in  music  is  regulated  by  fashion,  and  who  do  not  know  that  the 
music  of  Haydn  is  the  admiration  and  delight  of  all  the  real 
lovers  and  judges  of  the  art  in  Europe ! 


274  TRADITIONS  OF   EDINBURGH. 

'  The  vocal  department  of  our  concerts  consisted  chiefly  of 
the  songs  of  Handel,  Arne,  Gluck,  Sarti,  Jomelli,  Guglielmi, 
Paisiello,  Scottish  songs,  &c. ;  and  every  year,  generally,  we  had 
an  oratorio  of  Handel  performed,  with  the  assistance  of  a 
principal  bass  and  a  tenor  singer,  and  a  few  chorus-singers  from 
the  English  cathedrals ;  together  with  some  Edinburgh  amateurs,* 
who  cultivated  that  sacred  and  sublime  music ;  Signor  and 
Signora  Domenico  Corri,  the  latter  our  prima  donna,  singing 
most  of  the  principal  songs,  or  most  interesting  portions  of  the 
music.  On  such  occasions  the  hall  was  always  crowded  to 
excess  by  a  splendid  assemblage,  including  all  the  beauty  and 
fashion  of  our  city.  A  supper  to  the  directors  and  their  friends 
at  Fortune's  Tavern  generally  followed  the  oratorio,  where  the 
names  of  the  chief  beauties  who  had  graced  the  hall  were 
honoured  by  their  healths  being  drunk  :  the  champion  of  the 
lady  whom  he  proposed  as  his  toast  being  sometimes  challenged 
to  maintain  the  pre-eminence  of  her  personal  charms  by  the 
admirer  of  another  lady  filling  a  glass  of  double  depth  to  her 
health,  and  thus  forcing  the  champion  of  the  first  lady  to  say 
more  by  drinking  a  still  deeper  bumper  in  honour  of  her  beauty ; 
and  if  this  produced  a  rejoinder  from  the  other,  by  his  seizing 
and  quaffing  the  cup  of  largest  calibre,  there  the  contest  gener- 
ally ended,  and  the  deepest  drinker  saved  his  lady,  as  it  was 
phrased,  although  he  might  have  had  some  difficulty  in  saving 
himself  from  a  flooring,  while  endeavouring  to  regain  his  seat.t 
Miss  Burnet  of  Monboddo  and  Miss  Betsy  Home,  reigning 
beauties  of  the  time,  were  said  more  than  once  to  have  been  the 
innocent  cause  of  the  fall  of  man  in  this  way.  The  former  was 
gifted  with  a  countenance  of  heavenly  sweetness  and  expression, 
which  Guido,  had  he  beheld  it,  would  have  sought  to  perpetuate 
upon  canvas  as  that  of  an  angel ;  while  the  other  lady,  quite 

*  The  amateurs  who  took  the  lead  as  choristers  were  Gilbert  Innes,  Esq.  of  Stow  ;  Alex- 
ander Wight,  Esq.  advocate  ;  Mr  John  Hutton,  paper-maker  ;  Mr  John  Russel,  W.S.,  and 
Mr  George  Thomson.  As  an  instrumentalist,  we  could  boast  of  our  countryman  the  Earl 
of  Kelly,  who  also  composed  six  overtures  for  an  orchestra,  one  of  which  I  heard  played 
in  the  hall,  himself  leading  the  band. 

t  See  a  different  account  of  this  custom,  p.  162. 


ST  CECILIA  S   HALL.  275 

piquant  and  brilliant,  might  have  sat  to  Titian  for  a  Hebe,  or 
one  of  the  Graces.  Miss  Burnet  died  in  the  bloom  of  youth, 
universally  regretted  both  for  her  personal  charms  and  the  rare 
endo^vments  of  her  mind.  Miss  Home  was  happily  married  to 
Captain  Bro\vn,  her  ardent  admirer,  who  had  made  her  his  toast 
for  years,  and  vowed  he  would  continue  to  do  so  till  he  toasted 
her  Brown.  This  sort  of  exuberant  loyalty  to  beauty  was  by  no 
means  uncommon  at  the  convivial  meetings  of  those  days,  when 
"  time  had  not  thinned  our  flowing  hair,  nor  bent  us  with  his 
iron  hand." 

'  Let  me  call  to  mind  a  few  of  those  whose  lovely  faces  at  the 
concerts  gave  us  the  sweetest  zest  for  the  music.  Miss  Cleghorn 
of  Edinburgh,  still  living  in  single-blessedness;  Miss  Chalmers 
of  Pittencrief,  who  married  Sir  William  Miller  of  Glenlee,  Bart. ; 
Miss  Jessie  Chalmers  of  Edinburgh,  who  was  married  to  Mr 
Pringle  of  Haining ;  Miss  Hay  of  Hayston,  who  married  Sir 
William  Forbes  of  Pitsligo,  Bart. ;  Miss  Murray  of  Lintrose,  who 
was  called  the  Flower  of  Strathmore,  and  upon  whom  Bums 
wrote  the  song : 

"  Blithe,  blithe,  and  merry  was  she, 
Blithe  was  she  but  and  ben  ; 
Blithe  by  the  banks  of  Earn, 
And  blithe  in  Glenturit  Glen." 

She  married  David  Smith,  Esq.  of  Methven,  one  of  the  Lords  of 
Session;  Miss  Jardine  of  Edinburgh,  who  married  Mr  Home 
Drummond  of  Blairdrummond — their  daughter,  if  I  mistake  not, 
is  now  the  Duchess  of  Athole ;  Miss  Kinloch  of  Gilmerton,  who- 
married  Sir  Foster  Cunliffe  of  Acton,  Bart. ;  Miss  Lucy  Johnston 
of  East  Lothian,  who  married  Mr  Oswald  of  Auchincruive;  Miss 
Halket  of  Pitferran,  who  became  the  wife  of  the  celebrated 
Count  Lally-Tolendal ;  and  Jane,  Duchess  of  Gordon,  cele- 
brated for  her  wit  and  spirit,  as  well  as  for  her  beauty.  These, 
with  Miss  Burnet  and  Miss  Home,  and  many  others  whose 
names  I  do  not  distinctly  recollect,  were  indisputably  worthy  of 
all  the  honours  conferred  upon  them.     But  beauty  has  tempted 


276  •  TRADITIONS    OF   EDINBURGH. 

me  to  digress  too  long  from  my  details  relative  to  the  hall  and 
its  concerts,  to  which  I  return. 

'  The  hall  [built  in  1762  from  a  design  of  Mr  Robert  Mylne, 
after  the  model  of  the  great  opera  theatre  of  Parma]  was  an 
exact  oval,  having  a  concave  elliptical  ceiling,  and  was  remark- 
able for  the  clear  and  perfect  conveyance  of  sounds,  without 
responding  echoes,  as  well  as  for  the  judicious  manner  in  which 
the  seating  was  anunged.  In  this  last  respect,  I  have  seen  no 
concert-room  equal  to  it  either  in  London  or  Paris.  The 
orchestra  was  erected  at  the  upper  end  of  the  hall,  opposite  to 
the  door  of  entrance :  a'  portion  of  the  area,  in  the  centre  or 
widest  part,  was  without  any  seats,  and  served  as  a  small 
promenade,  where  friends  could  chat  together  during  the 
intervals  of  performance.  The  seats  were  all  fixed  down  on 
both  sides  of  the  hall,  and  each  side  was  raised  by  a  gradual 
elevation  from  the  level  area,  backward,  the  rows  of  seats  behind 
each  other,  till  they  reached  a  passage  a  few  feet  broad,  that  was 
carried  quite  round  the  hall  behind  the  last  of  the  elevated  seats  ; 
so  that  when  the  audience  was  seated,  each  half  of  it  fronted 
the  other — an  an'angement  much  preferable  to  that  commonly 
adopted,  of  placing  all  the  seats  upon  a  level  behind  each  other, 
for  thus  the  'whole  company  must  look  one  way,  and  see  each 
other's  backs.  A  private  staircase  at  the  upper  end  of  the  hall, 
not  seen  by  the  company,  admitted  the  musicians  into  the 
orchestra ;  in  the  front  of  which  stood  a  harpsichord,  with  the 
singers,  and  the  principal  violoncellist ;  and  behind  these,  on  a 
platform  a  little  elevated,  were  the  violins,  and  other  stringed 
and  wind  instruments,  just  behind  which  stood  a  noble  organ. 
The  hall,  when  filled,  contained  an  audience  of  about  four 
hundred.  No  money  was  taken  for  admission,  tickets  being 
given  gratis  to  the  lovers  of  music,  and  to  strangers.  What  a 
pity  that  such  a  liberal  and  gratifying  institution  should  have 
ceased  to  exist !  But  after  the  New  Town  arose,  the  Old  was 
deserted  by  the  upper  classes  :  the  hall  was  too  small  for  the 
increased  population,  and  concerts  were  got  up  at  the  Assembly 
Rooms  and  Corri's  Rooms  by  the  professional  musicians,  and  by 


ST  Cecilia's  hall.  277 

Corri  himself.  Now,  a  capacious  Music  Hall  is  erected  behind 
the  Assembly  Rooms,  where  a  pretty  good  subscription  concert 
is  carried  on;  and  from  the  increased  facility  of  intercourse 
between  Paris,  London,  and  Edinburgh,  it  seems  probable  that 
concerts  by  artists  of  the  highest  talents  will  ere  long  be  set  on 
foot  in  Edinburgh  in  this  fine  hall,  diversified  sometimes  by 
oratorios  or  Italian  operas. 

'  Before  concluding  this  brief  memoir  of  St  Cecilia's  Hall 
Concerts,  I  shall  mention  the  chief  performers  who  gave 
attractions  to  them.  These  were  Signor  and  Signora  Domenico 
Com,  from  Rome ;  he  with  a  falsetto  voice,  which  he  managed 
\vith  much  skill  and  taste ;  the  signora  with  a  fine,  full-toned, 
flexible  soprano  voice.  Tenducci,  though  not  one  of  the  band, 
nor  resident  among  us,  made  his  appearance  occasionally  when 
he  came  to  visit  the  Hopetoun  family,  his  liberal  and  steady 
patrons ;  and  while  he  remained,  he  generally  gave  some  con- 
certs at  the  hall,  which  made  quite  a  sensation  among  the 
musicals.  I  considered  it  a  jubilee  year  whenever  Tenducci 
arrived,  as  no  singer  I  ever  heard  sung  with  more  expressive 
simplicity,  or  was  more  efficient,  whether  he  sung  the  classical 
songs  of  Metastasio,  or  those  of  Arne's  Artaxerxes,  or  the  simple 
melodies  of  Scotland.  To  the  latter  he  gave  such  intensity  of 
interest  by  his  impassioned  manner,  and  by  his  clear  enunciation 
of  the  words,  as  equally  surprised  and  delighted  us.  I  never 
can  forget  the  pathos  and  touching  effect  of  his  Gilderoy, 
Lochaber  710  more,  The  Braes  of  Ballenden,  I'' II  never  leave  thee, 
Roslhi  Castle,  &c.  These,  with  the  Verdi  prati  of  Handel,  Fair 
Aurora  from  Arne's  Artaxerxes,  and  Gluck's  Che  faro,  were 
above  all  praise.  Miss  Poole,  Mr  Smeaton,  Mr  Gilson,  and 
Mr  Urbani  were  also  for  a  time  singers  at  the  hall — chiefly  of 
English  and  Scottish  songs. 

'  In  the  instrumental  department  we  had  Signor  Puppo,  from 
Rome  or  Naples,  as  leader  and  violin  concerto  player,  a  most 
capital  artist ;  Mr  Schetky,  from  Germany,  the  principal  violon- 
cellist, and  a  fine  solo  concerto  player ;  Joseph  Reinagle,  a  very 
clever  violoncello  and  viola  player ;  Mr  Barnard,  a  very  elegant 


278  TRADITIONS    OF   EDINBURGH. 

violinist ;  Stephen  Clarke,  an  excellent  organist  and  harpsichord 
player ;  and  twelve  or  fifteen  violins,  basses,  flutes,  violas,  horns, 
and  clarionets,  with  extra  performers  often  from  London.  Upon 
the  resignation  of  Puppo,  who  charmed  all  hearers,  Stabilini 
succeeded  him,  and  held  the  situation  till  the  institution  was  at 
an  end :  he  had  a  good  round  tone,  though,  to  my  apprehension, 
he  did  not  exceed  mediocrity  as  a  performer. 

'  But  I  should  be  unpardonable  if  I  omitted  to  mention  the 
most  a6complished  violin-player  I  ever  heard,  Paganini  only 
excepted — I  mean  Giomovicki,  who  possessed  in  a  most  extra- 
ordinary degree  the  various  requisites  of  his  beautiful  art  : 
execution  peculiarly  brilliant,  and  finely  articulated  as  possible  ; 
a  tone  of  the  richest  and  most  exquisite  quality ;  expression  of 
the  utmost  delicacy,  grace,  and  tenderness ;  and  an  animation 
that  commanded  your  most  intense  and  eager  attention, 
Paganini  did  not  appear  in  Edinburgh  till  [thirty  years]  after 
the  hall  was  closed.  There,  as  well  as  at  private  parties,  I 
heard  Giomovicki  often,  and  always  with  no  less  delight  than 
I  listened  to  Paganini.'^  Both,  if  I  may  use  the  expression, 
threw  their  whole  hearts  and  souls  into  their  Cremonas,  bows, 
and  fingers. 

"  Hall  of  sweet  sounds,  adieu,  with  all  thy  fascinations  of  langsyne, 
My  dearest  reminiscences  of  music  all  are  thine." ' 

G.  T.  Octogmaritis  Edinburgcnsis,  Feb.  1847.+ 


*  ['  John  M.  Giomovicki,  commonly  known  in  Britain  under  the  name  of  Jamowick,  was 
a  native  of  Palermo.  About  1770  he  went  to  Paris,  where  he  performed  a  concerto  of  his 
famous  master  LoUi,  but  did  not  succeed.  He  then  played  one  of  his  own  concertos,  that 
in  A  major,  and  became  quite  the  fashion.  The  style  of  Giomovicki  was  highly  elegant 
and  finished,  his  intonation  perfect,  and  his  taste  pure.  The  late  Domenico  Dragonetti, 
one  of  the  best  judges  in  Europe,  told  me  that  Giomovicki  was  the  most  elegant  and  grace- 
ful violin-player  he  had  ever  heard  before  Paganini,  but  that  he  wanted  power.  He  seems 
to  have  been  a  dissipated  and  passionate  man ;  a  good  swordsman  too,  as  was  common  in 
those  days.  One  day,  in  a  dispute,  he  struck  the  Chevalier  St  George,  then  one  of  the 
greatest  violin-players  and  best  swordsmen  in  Europe.  St  George  said  coolly  :  "I  have  too 
much  regard  for  his  musical  talent  to  fight  him."  A  noble  speech,  shewing  St  George  in 
all  respects  the  better  man.     Giomovicki  died  suddenly  at  St  Petersburg  in  1S04.' — G.  F.  G.\ 

t  G.  T.,  it  may  now  be  explained,  was  George  Thomson,  the  well-known  and  generally 
loved  editor  of  the  Melodies  of  Scotland.  He  might  rather  have  described  himself  as 
Noiwgenaritis,  for  at  his  death  in  1851,  he  had  reached  the  age  of  ninety-four,  his  violin,  as 
he  believed,  having  prolonged  his  life  much  beyond  the  usual  term. 


ST  Cecilia's  hall.  279 

Stabilini,  to  whom  our  dear  G.  T.  refers,  and  who  died  in 
1 815,  much  broken  down  by  dissipation,  was  obliged,  against 
his  will,  to  give  frequent  attendance  at  the  private  concerts  of 
one  of  these  gentlemen  performers,  where  Corelli's  trios  were  in 
great  vogue.  There  was  always  a  capital  supper  afterwards,  at 
which  Stab  (so  he  was  familiarly  called)  ate  and  drank  for  any 
two.  A  waggish  friend,  who  knew  his  opinion  of  Edinburgh 
amateurs,  meeting  him  next  day,  would  ask :  '  Well,  Mr 
Stabilini,  what  sort  of  music  had  you  the  other  night  at 


'  Vera  good  soaper,  sir ;  vera  good  soaper  ! ' 

'  But  tell  us  the  verse  you  made  about  one  of  these  parties.' 

Stabilini,  twitching  up  his  shirt-collar,  a  common  trick  of  his, 

would  say : 

*  A  piece  ov  toarkey  for  a  hungree  bellee 
Is  moatch  suTpeerior  to  Corelli ! ' 

The  accent,  the  manner,  the  look  with  which  this  was  delivered, 
is  said  to  have  been  beyond  expression  rich. 

It  is  quite  remarkable,  when  we  consider  the  high  character 
of  the  popular  melodies,  how  late  and  slow  has  been  the  intro- 
duction of  a  taste  for  the  higher  class  of  musical  compositions 
into  Scotland.  The  Earl  of  Kelly,  a  man  of  yesterday,  was  the 
first  Scotsman  who  ever  composed  music  for  an  orchestra. 
This  fact  seems  sufficient.  It  is  to  be  feared  that  the  beauty 
of  the  melodies  is  itself  partly  to  be  blamed  for  the  indifference 
to  higher  music.  There  is  too  great  a  disposition  to  rest  with 
the  distinction  thus  conferred  upon  the  nation ;  too  many  are 
content  to  go  no  further  for  the  enjoyments  which  music  has  to 
give.  It  would  be  well  if,  while  not  forgetting  those  beautiful 
simple  airs,  we  were  more  generally  to  open  our  minds  to  the 
still  richer  charms  of  the  German  and  the  Italian  muses. 


28o  TRADITIONS    OF   EDINBURGH. 


THE   MURDER   OF    DARNLEY. 

While  this  event  is  connected  with  one  of  the  most  problem- 
atical points  in  our  own  history,  or  that  of  any  other  nation,  it 
chances  that  the  whole  topography  of  the  aifair  is  very  distinctly 
recorded.  We  know  not  only  the  exact  spot  where  the  deed 
was  perpetrated,  but  almost  every  foot  of  the  ground  over  which 
the  perpetrators  walked  on  their  way  to  execute  it.  It  is  chiefly 
by  reason  of  the  depositions  and  confessions  brought  out  by  the 
legal  proceedings  against  the  inferior  instruments,  that  this 
minute  knowledge  is  attained. 

The  house  in  which  the  unfortunate  victim  resided  at  the  time 
was  one  called  the  Prebendaries'  Chamber,  being  part  of  the 
suite  of  domestic  buildings  connected  with  the  collegiate  church 
of  St-Mary-in-the-Fields  (usually  called  the  Kirk  d  Field). 
Darnley  was  brought  to  lodge  here  on  the  30th  of  January 
1566-7.  He  had  contracted  the  small-pox  at  Glasgow,  and  it 
was  thought  necessary,  or  pretended  to  be  thought  necessary,  t-o 
lodge  him  in  this  place  for  air,  as  also  to  guard  against  infecting 
the  infant  prince,  his  son,  who  was  lodged  in  Holyrood  House, 
The  house,  which  then  belonged,  by  gift,  to  a  creature  of  the 
Earl  of  Bothwell,  has  been  described  as  so  very  mean,  as  to 
excite  general  surprise.  Yet,  speaking  by  comparison,  it  does 
nQt  appear  to  have  been  a  bad  temporary  lodging  for  a  person 
in  Damley's  circumstances.  It  consisted  of  two  storeys,  with  a 
turnpike  or  spiral  staircase  behind.  The  gable  adjoined  to  the 
town-wall,  which  there  ran  in  a  line  east  and  west,  and  the  cellar 
had  a  postern  opening  through  that  wall.  In  the  upper  floor 
were  a  chamber  and  closet,  with  a  little  gallery  having  a  window 
also  through  the  town-wall.*     Here  Darnley  was  deposited  in 

*  About  seventy  paces  to  the  east  of  the  site  of  the  Prebendaries'  Chamber,  and  exactly 
opposite  to  the  opening  of  Roxburgh  Place,  was  a  projection  in  the  wall,  which  has  been 
long  demolished,  and  the  wall  altered.     Close,  however,  to  the  west  of  the  place,  and  near 


THE  MURDER  OF  DARNLEY.  261 

an  old  purple  travelling-bed.  Underneath  his  room  was  an 
apartment  in  which  the  queen  slept  for  one  or  two  nights  before 
the  murder  took  place.  On  the  night  of  Sunday,  February  g, 
she  was  attending  upon  her  husband  in  his  sick-room,  when  the 
servants  of  the  Earl  of  Bothwell  deposited  the  powder  in  her 
room,  immediately  under  the  king's  bed.  The  queen  afterwards 
took  her  leave,  in  order  to  attend  the  wedding  of  two  of  her 
servants  at  the  palace. 

It  appears,  from  the  confessions  of  the  wretches  executed  for 
this  foul  deed,  that,  as  they  returned  from  depositing  the  powder, 
they  saw  '  the  Queenes  grace  gangand  before  thame  with  licht 
torches  up  the  Black  Frier  Wynd.'  On  their  returning  to 
Bothwell's  lodging  at  the  palace,  that  nobleman  prepared  himself 
for  the  deed,  by  changing  his  gay  suit  of  'hose,  stockit  with 
black  velvet,  passemented  with  silver,  and  doublett  of  black 
satin  of  the  same  maner,'  for  '  ane  uther  pair  of  black  hose,* 
and  ane  canves  doublet  white,  and  tuke  his  syde  [long]  riding- 
cloak  about  him,  of  sad  English  claith,  callit  the  new  colour.' 
He  then  went,  attended  by  Paris,  the  queen's  servant,  Powry, 
his  own  porter.  Pate  Wilson,  and  George  Dalgliesh,  '  downe  the 
turnepike  altogedder,  and  along  the  bak  of  the  Queenes  garden, 
till  you  come  to  the  bak  of  the  cunyie-house  [mint],  and  the 
bak  of  the  stabbillis,  till  you  come  to  the  Cannogate  foment  the 
Abbey  zett.'  After  passing  up  the  Canongate,  and  gaining  entry 
with  some  difficulty  by  the  Netherbow  Port,  'thai  gaid  up 
abone  Bassentyne's  hous  on  the  south  side  of  the  gait,t  and 
knockit  at  ane  door  beneath  the  sword  slippers,  and  callit  for 
the  laird  of  Ormistounes,  and  one  within  answerit  he  was  not 
thair ;  and  thai  passit  down  a  cloiss  beneath  the  Frier  Wynd 
\_apparently  ToddricKs  Wjynd],  and  enterit  in  at  the  zett  of  the 
Black  Friers,  till  thay  came  to  the  back  wall  and  dyke  of  the 

the  ground,  are  some  remains  of  an  arch  in  the  wall,  which  Malcolm  Laing  supposes  to 
have  been  a  gun-port  connected  with  the  projection  at  this  spot.  It  certainly  has  no 
connection,  as  Arnot  and  (after  him)  Whitaker  have  supposed,  with  the  story  of  Damley's 
murder. 

*  Hose,  in  those  days,  covered  the  whole  of  the  lower  part  of  the  person. 

t  This  indicates  pretty  nearly  the  site  of  the  house  of  Bassendyne,  the  early  printer.  It 
must  have  been  opposite,  or  nearly  opposite,  to  the  Fountain  Well. 


282  TRADITIONS    OF   EDINBURGH. 

town-wall,  whair  my  lord  and  Paris  past  in  over  the  wall.'  The 
explosion  took  place  soon  after,  about  two  in  the  morning. 
The  earl  then  came  back  to  his  attendants  at  this  spot,  and 
*  thai  past  all  away  togidder  out  at  the  Frier  zett,  and  sinderit 
in  the  Cowgait.'  It  is  here  evident  that  the  alley  now  called 
the  High  School  Wynd  was  the  avenue  by  which  the  conspirators 
approached  the  scene  of  their  atrocity.  Bothwell  himself,  with 
part  of  his  attendants,  went  up  the  same  wynd  'be  east  the 
Frier  Wynd,'  and  crossing  the  High  Street,  endeavoured  to  get 
out  of  the  city  by  leaping  a  broken  part  of  the  town-wall  in 
Leith  Wynd,  but  finding  it  too  high,  was  obliged  to  rouse  once 
more  the  porter  at  the  Netherbow.  They  then  passed — for 
every  motion  of  the  villains  has  a  strange  interest — down  St 
Mary's  Wynd,  and  along  the  south  back  of  the  Canongate,  to 
the  earl's  lodgings  in  the  palace. 

The  house  itself,  by  this  explosion,  was  destroyed,  ' even'  as 
the  queen  tells  in  a  letter  to  her  ambassador  in  France,  '  to  the 
very  grwid-stmie^  The  bodies  of  the  king  and  his  servant  were 
found  next  morning  in  a  garden  or  field  on  the  outside  of  the 
town-wall.  The  buildings  connected  with  the  Kirk  o'  Field 
were  afterwards  converted  into  the  College  of  King  James,  now 
our  Edinburgh  university.  The  hall  of  the  Senatus  in  the  new 
building  occupies  nearly  the  exact  site  of  the  Prebendaries' 
Chamber,  the  ruins  of  which  are  laid  down  in  De  Witt's  map  of 
1648. 


MINT     CLOSE. 

The  Mint — Robert  Cullen — Lord  Chancellor  Loughborough. 

The  Ciinyie  House,  as  the  Scottish  Mint  used  to  be  called,  was 
near  Holyrood  Palace  in  the  days  of  Queen  Mary.  In  the 
regency  of  Morton,  a  large  house  was  erected  for  it  in  the  Cow- 
gate,  where  it  may  still  be  seen,  with  the  following  inscription 
over  the  door : 

BE.  MERCYFULL.  TO.  ME.  O.  GOD.       I574. 


THE   MINT.  2S3 

In  the  reign  of  Charles  II.,  other  buildings  were  added  behind, 
forming  a  neat  quadrangle;  and  here  was  the  Scottish  coin 
produced  till  the  Union,  when  a  separate  coinage  was  given  up, 
and  this  establishment  abandoned ;  though,  to  gratify  prejudice, 
the  offices  were  still  kept  up  as  sinecures.  This  court,  with  its 
buildings,  was  a  sanctuary  for  persons  prosecuted  for  debt,  as 
was  the  King's  Stables,  a  mean  place  at  the  west  end  of  the 
Grassmarket.  There  was,  however,  a  small  den  near  the  top  of 
the  oldest  building,  lighted  by  a  small  window  looking  up 
the  Cowgate,  which  was  used  as  a  jail  for  debtors  or  other 
delinquents  condemned  by  the  Mint's  own  officers. 

In  the  western  portion  of  the  old  building,  accessible  by  a 
stair  from  the  court,  is  a  handsome  room  with  an  alcove  ceiling, 
and  lighted  by  two  handsomely  proportioned  windows,  which 
is  known  to  have  been  the  council-room  of  the  Mint,  being  a 
portion  of  the  private  mansion  of  the  master.  Here,  in  May 
1590,  on  a  Sunday  evening,  the  town  of  Edinburgh  entertained 
the  Danish  lords  who  accompanied  James  VI.  and  his  queen 
from  her  native  court — namely,  Peter  Monk,  the  admiral  of 
Denmark ;  Stephen  Brahe,  captain  of  Eslinburg  [perhaps  a 
relative  of  Tycho  ?] ;  Braid  Ransome  Maugaret ;  Nicholaus 
Theophilus,  Doctor  of  Laws ;  Henry  Goolister,  captain  of 
Bocastle;  William  Vanderwent;  and  some  others.  For  this 
banquet,  '  maid  in  Thomas  Aitchinsoune,  master  of  the  cunyie- 
house  lugeing,'  it  was  ordered  '  that  the  thesaurer  cans  by  and 
lay  in  foure  punsheouns  wyne;  John  Borthuik  baxter  to  get 
four  bunnis  of  beir,  with  foure  gang  of  aill,  and  to  furneis  breid ; 
Henry  Charteris  and  Roger  Macnacht  to  caus  hing  the  hous 
with  tapestrie,  set  the  burdis,  furmis,  chandleris  [cand/esficks], 
and  get  flowris ;  George  Carketill  and  Rychert  Doby  to  provyde 
the  cupbuirds  and  men  to  keep  thame ;  and  my  Lord  Provest 
was  content  to  provyde  naprie  and  twa  dozen  greit  veschell, 
and  to  avance  ane  hunder  pund  or  mair,  as  thai  sail  haif 
a  do.' 

In  the  latter  days  of  the  Mint  as  an  active  establishment,  the 

coining-house  was  in  the  ground-floor  of  the  building,  on  the 

s 


2 84  TRADITIONS    OF  EDINBURGH. 

north  side  of  the  court;  in  the  adjoining  house,  on  the  east 
side,  was  the  finishing-house,  where  the  money  was  pohshed  and 
fitted  fiDr  circulation.  The  chief  instruments  used  in  coining 
were  a  hammer  and  steel  dies,  upon  which  the  device  was 
engraved.  The  metal,  being  previously  prepared  of  the  proper 
fineness  and  thickness,  was  cut  into  longitudinal  slips ;  and  a 
square  piece  being  cut  from  the  slip,  it  was  afterwards  rounded 
and  adjusted  to  the  weight  of  the  money  to  be  made.  The 
blank  pieces  of  metal  were  then  placed  between  two  dies,  and 
the  upper  one  was  struck  with  a  hammer.  After  the  Restoration, 
another  method  was  introduced — that  of  the  mill  and  screw — 
which,  modified  by  many  improvements,  is  still  in  use.  At  the 
Union,  the  ceremony  of  destroying  the  dies  of  the  Scottish 
coinage  took  place  in  the  Mint.  After  being  heated  red-hot  in 
a  furnace,  they  were  defaced  by  three  impressions  of  a  broad- 
faced  punch — which  were  of  course  visible  on  the  dies  as  long  as 
they  existed;  but  it  must  be  recorded,  that  all  these  implements, 
which  would  now  have  been  great  curiosities,  are  lost,  and  none 
of  the  macl^inery  remains  but  the  press,  which,  weighing  about 
half  a  ton,  was  rather  too  large  to  be  readily  appropriated,  or 
perhaps  it  would  have  followed  the  rest. 

The  floors  over  the  coining-house — ^bearing  the  letters,  c.  R.  ii., 
surmounting  a  crown,  and  the  legend,  god  save  the  king,  1674, 
originally  the  mansion  of  the  master — ^was  latterly  occupied  by 
the  eminent  Dr  CuUen,  whose  family  were  all  bom  here,  and 
who  died  here  himself  in  1792. 

ROBERT  CULLEN. 

Robert  Cullen,  the  son  of  the  physician,  made  a  great  impres- 
sion on  Edinburgh  society  by  his  many  delightful  social  qualities, 
and  particularly  his  powers  as  a  mimic  of  the  Mathews  genus. 
He  manifested  this  gift  in  his  earliest  years,  to  the  no  small 
discomposure  of  his  grave  old  father.  One  evening,  when  Dr 
Cullen  was  going  to  the  theatre,  Robert  entreated  to  be  taken 
along  with  him,  but,  for  some  reason,  was  condemned  to  remain 
at  home.     Some  time  after  the  departure  of  the  doctor,  Mrs 


rob:ert  cullen.  285 

CuUen  heard  him  come  along  the  passage,  as  if  from  his  own 
room,  and  say,  at  her  door :  '  Well,  after  all,  you  may  let  Robert 
go.'  Robert  was  accordingly  allowed  to  depart  for  the  theatre, 
where  his  appearance  gave  no  small  surprise  to  his  father.  On 
the  old  gentleman  coming  home,  and  remonstrating  with  his  lady 
for  allowing  the  boy  to  go,  it  was  discovered  that  the  voice 
which  seemed  to  give  the  permission  had  proceeded  from  the 
young  wag  himself. 

In  maturer  years,  Cullen  could  not  only  mimic  any  voice  or 
mode  of  speech,  but  enter  so  thoroughly  into  the  nature  of  any 
man,  that  he  could  supply  exactly  the  ideas  which  he  was  likely 
to  use.  His  imitations  were  therefore  something  much  above 
mimicries — they  were  artistic  representations  of  human  char- 
acter. He  has  been  known,  in  a  social  company,  where 
another  individual  was  expected,  to  stand  up,  in  the  character 
of  that  person,  and  return  thanks  for  the  proposal  of  his  health ; 
and  this  was  done  so  happily,  that,  when  the  individual  did 
arrive,  and  got  upon  his  legs  to  speak  for  himself,  the  company 
was  convulsed  with  an  almost  exact  repetition  of  what  Cullen 
had  pre\dously  uttered,  the  manner  also,  and  every  inflection  of 
the  voice,  being  precisely  alike.  In  relating  anecdotes,  of  which 
he  possessed  a  vast  store,  he  usually  prefaced  them  with  a 
sketch  of  the  character  of  the  person  referred  to,  which  greatly 
increased  the  effect,  as  the  story  then  told  characteristically. 
These  sketches  were  remarked  to  be  extremely  graphic,  and 
most  elegantly  expressed. 

When  a  young  man,  residing  with  his  father,  he  was  very 
intimate  with  Dr  Robertson,  the  Principal  of  the  university. 
To  shew  that  Robertson  was  not  likely  to  be  easily  imitated,  it 
may  be  mentioned,  from  the  report  of  a  gentleman  who  has 
often  heard  him  making  public  orations,  that  when  the  students 
observed  him  pause  for  a  word,  and  would  themselves  mentally 
supply  it,  they  invariably  found  that  the  word  which  he  did  use 
was  different  from  that  which  they  had  hit  upon.  Cullen,  how- 
ever, could  imitate  him  to  the  life,  either  in  his  more  formal 
speeches,  or  in  his  ordinary  discourse.      He  would  often,  in 


'286  TRADITIONS    OF   EDINBURGH. 

entering  a  house  which  the  Principal  was  in  the  habit  of  visiting, 
assume  his  voice  in  the  lobby  and  stair,  and  when  arrived  at  the 
drawing-room  door,  astonish  the  family  by  turning  out  to  be — 
Bob  -Cullen.  Lord  Greville,  a  pupil  of  the  Principal's,  having 
been  one  night  detained  at  a  protracted  debauch,  where  Cullen 
was  also  present,  the  latter  gentleman  next  morning  got  admis- 
sion to  the  bed-room  of  the  young  nobleman,  where,  personating 
Dr  Robertson,  he  sat  down  by  the  bedside,  and  with  all  the 
manner  of  the  reverend  Principal,  gave  him  a  sound  lecture  for 
having  been  out  so  late  last  night.  Greville,  who  had  fully 
expected  this  visit,  lay  in  remorseful  silence,  and  allowed  his 
supposed  monitor  to  depart  without  saying  a  word.  In  the 
course  of  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  however,  when  the  real  Dr 
Robertson  entered,  and  commenced  a  harangue  exactly  dupli- 
cating that  just  concluded,  he  could  not  help  exclaiming  that  it 
was  too  had  to  give  it  him  twice  over.  '  Oh,  I  see  how  it  is,' 
said  Robertson,  rising  to  depart ;  '  that  rogue  Bob  Cullen  must 
have  been  with  you.'  The  Principal  became  at  lengthjaccus- 
tomed  to  Bob's  tricks,  which  he  would  seem,  from  the  following 
anecdote,  to  have  regarded  in  a  friendly  spirit.  Being  attended 
during  an  illness  by  Dr  Cullen,  it  was  found  .^necessary  to 
administer  a  liberal  dose  of  laudanum.  The  physician,  however, 
asked  him,  in  the  first  place,  in  what  manner  laudanum  affected 
him.  Having  received  his  answer,  Cullen  remarked,  with 
surprise,  that  he  had  never  known  any  one  affected  in  the  same 
way  by  laudanum  besides  his  son  Bob.  '  Ah,'  said  Robertson, 
*  does  the  rascal  take  me  off  there  too  V 

Mr  Cullen  entered  at  the  Scottish  bar  in  1764,  and,  distin- 
guishing himself  highly  as  a  lawyer,  was  raised  to  the  bench  in 
1796,  when  he  took  the  designation  of  Lord  Cullen.  He 
cultivated  elegant  literature,  and  contributed  some  papers  of 
acknowledged  merit  to  the  Mirror  and  Lounger;  but  it  was  in 
conversation  that  he  chiefly  shone. 

The  close  adjoining  to  the  Mint  contains  several  old-fashioned 
houses  of  a  dignified  appearance.  In  a  floor  of  one  bearing 
the  date   1679,  ^.nd  having  a  little  court  in  front,  Alexander 


ROBERT   CULLEN.  287- 

Wedderbum,  Earl  of  Rosslyn,  and  Lord  Chancellor  of  England, 
resided  while  at  the  Scottish  bar.  This,  as  is  well  known,  was  a 
very  brief  interval ;  for  a  veteran  barrister  having  one  day  used 
the  term  'presumptuous  boy'  with  reference  to  him,  and  his  own 
caustic  reply  having  drawn  upon  him  a  rebuke  from  the  bench, 
he  took  off  his  gown,  and  making  a  bow,  said  he  would  never 
more  plead  where  he  was  subjected  to  insult,  but  would  seek  a 
wider  field  for  his  exertions.  His  subsequent  rapid  rise  at  the 
English  bar  is  matter  of  history.  It  is  told  that,  returning  to 
Edinburgh  at  the  end  of  his  life,  after  an  absence  of  many  years, 
he  wished  to  see  the  house  where  he  had  lived  while  a  Scotch 
advocate.  Too  infirm  to  walk,  he  was  borne  in  a  chair  to  the 
foot  of  the  Mint  Close,  to  see  this  building.  One  thing  he  was 
particularly  anxious  about.  While  residing  here,  he  had  had 
five  holes  made  in  the  little  court,  to  play  at  some  bowling 
game  of  which  he  was  fond.  He  wished  above  all  things  to  see 
these  holes  once  more,  and,  when  he  found  they  were  still  there, 
he  expressed  much  satisfaction.  Churchill  himself  might  have 
melted  at  such  an  anecdote  of  the  old  days  of  him  who  was 

'  Pert  at  the  bar,  and  in  the  senate  loud.' 

About  midway  up  the  close  is  a  turreted  mansion  accessible 
from  Hyndford's  Close,  and  having  a  tolerably  good  garden 
connected  with  it.  This  was,  in  1742,  the  residence  of  the  Earl 
of  Selkirk ;  subsequently  it  was  occupied  by  Dr  Daniel  Ruther- 
ford, professor  of  botany.  Sir  Walter  Scott,  who,  being  a 
nephew  of  that  gentleman,  was  often  in  the  house  in  his  young 
days,  communicated  to  me  a  curious  circumstance  connected 
with  it.  It  appears  that  the  house  immediately  adjacent  was 
not  furnished  with  a  stair  Avide  enough  to  allow  of  a  coffin  being 
carried  down  in  decent  fashion.  It  had,  therefore,  what  the 
Scottish  law  calls  z.--servitude  upon  Dr  Rutherford's  house,  con- 
ferring the  perpetual  liberty  of  bringing  the  deceased  inmates 
through  a  passage  into  that  house,  and  down  its  stair  into  the 
lane. 


288  TRADITIONS  OF   EDINBURGH. 


MISS    NICKY    MURRAY. 

The  dancing  assemblies  of  Edinburgh  were  for  many  years, 
about  the  middle  of  the  last  century,  under  the  direction  and 
dictatorship  of  the  Honourable  Miss  Nicky  Murray,  one  of  the 
sisters  of  the  Earl  of  Mansfield.  Much  good  sense,  firmness, 
knowledge  of  the  world  anji  of  the  histories  of  individuals,  as 
well  as  a  due  share  of  patience  and  benevolence,  were  required 
for  this  office  of  unrecognised  though  real  power;  and  it  was 
generally  admitted  that  Miss  Murray  possessed  the  needful 
qualifications  in  a  remarkable  degree,  though  rather  more 
marked  by  good-manners  than  good-nature.  She  and  her 
sisters  lived  for  many  years  in  a  floor  of  a  large  building  at 
the  head  of  Bailie  Fife's  Close — a  now  unhallowed  locality, 
where,  I  believe,  Francis  Jeffrey  attended  his  first  school.  In 
their  narrow  mansion,  the  Miss  Murrays  received  flights  of 
young  lady-cousins  from  the  country,  to  be  finished  in  their 
manners,  and  introduced  into  society.  No  light  task  must 
theirs  have  been,  all  things  considered.  I  find  a  highly  signifi- 
cant note  on  the  subject  inserted  by  an  old  gentleman  in  an 
interleaved  copy  of  my  first  edition :  '  It  was  from  Miss  Nicky 
Murray's — a  relation  of  the  Gray  family — that  my  father  ran  off 
with  my  mother,  then  not  sixteen  years  old.' 

The  Assembly  Room  of  that  time  was  in  the  close  where 
the  Commercial  Bank  was  afterwards  established.  First  there 
was  a  lobby,  where  chairs  were  disburdened  of  their  company, 
and  where  a  reduced  gentleman,  with  pretensions  to  the  title  of 
Lord  Kirkcudbright — descendant  of  the  once  great  Maclellans 
of  Galloway — might  have  been  seen  selling  gloves ;  this  being 
the  person  alluded  to  in  a  letter  written  by  Goldsmith  while  a 
student  in  Edinburgh :  '  One  day,  happening  to  slip  into  Lord 
Kilcobry's — don't  be  surprised,  his  lordship  is  only  a  glover!' 
The  dancmg-room  opened  directly  from  the  lobby,  and  above 


MISS  NICKY  MURRAY.  289 

Stairs  was  a  tea-room.  The  former  had  a  railed  space  in  the 
centre,  within  which  the  dancers  were  arranged,  while  the 
spectators  sat  round  on  the  outside;  and  no  communication 
was  allowed  between  the  different  sides  of  this  sacred  pale. 
The  lady-directress  had  a  .high  chair  or  throne  at  one  end. 
Before  Miss  Nicky  Murray,  Lady  Elliot  of  Minto,  and  Mrs 
Brown  of  Coalstoun,  wives  of  judges,  had  exercised  this  lofty 
authority,  which  was  thought  honourable  on  account  of  the 
charitable  object  of  the  assembhes.  The  arrangements  were 
of  a  rigid  character,  and  certainly  tending  to  dulness.  There 
being  but  one  set  allowed  to  dance  at  a  time,  it  was  seldom  that 
any  person  was  twice  on  the  floor  in  one  night.  The  most  of 
the  time  was  spent  in  acting  the  part  of  lookers-on;  which  threw 
great  duties  in  the  way  of  conversation  upon  the  gentlemen. 
These  had  to  settle  with  a  partner  for  the  year,  and  were  upon 
no  account  permitted  to  change,  even  for  a  single  night.  The 
appointment  took  place  at  the  beginning  of  the  season,  usually 
at  some  private  party  or  ball,  given  by  a  person  of  distinction, 
where  the  fans  of  the  ladies  were  all  put  into  a  gentleman's 
cocked  hat ;  the  gentlemen  put  in  their  hands,  and  took  a  fan ; 
and  to  whomsoever  the  fan  belonged,  that  was  to  be  his  partner 
for  the  season.  In  the  general  rigours  of  this  system,  which 
sometimes  produced  ludicrous  combinations,  there  was,  however, 
one  palliative — namely,  the  fans  being  all  distinguishable  from 
each  other,  and  the  gentleman  being  in  general  as  well 
acquainted  with  the  fan  as  the  face  of  his  mistress,  and  the 
hat  being  open,  it  was  possible  to  peep  in,  and  exercise,  to 
a  certain  extent,  a  principle  of  selection,  whereby  he  was 
perhaps  successful  in  procuring  an  appointment  to  his  mind. 
All  this  is  spiritedly  given  in  a  poem  of  Sir  Alexander  Boswell. 

'  Then  were  the  days  of  modesty  of  mien  ! 
Stays  for  the  fat,  and  quilting  for  the  lean ; 
The  ribboned  stomacher,  in  many  a  plait, 
Upheld  the  chest,  and  dignified  the  gait ; 
Some  Venus,  brightest  planet  of  the  train, 
Moved  in  a  lustering  halo,  propped  with  cane. 


290  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

Then  the  Assembly  Close  received  the  fair — 

Order  and  elegance  presided  there — 

Each  gay  Right  Honourable  had  her  place, 

To  walk  a  minuet  with  becoming  gi-ace. 

No  racing  to  the  dance,  with  rival  hurry — 

Such  was  thy  sway,  O  famed  Miss  Nicky  Muiray ! 

Each  lady's  fan  a  chosen  Damon  bore, 

With  care  selected  many  a  day  before ; 

For,  unprovided  with  a  favourite  beau, 

The  nymph,  chagrined,  the  ball  must  needs  forego  j 

But,  previous  matters  to  her  taste  arranged, 

Certes,  the  constant  couple  never  changed  ; 

Through  a  long  night,  to  watch  fair  Delia's  will, 

The  same  dull  swain  was  at  her  elbow  still.' 

A  little  before  Miss  Nicky's  time,  it  was  customary  for  gentle- 
men to  walk  alongside  the  chairs  of  their  partners,  with  their 
swords  by  their  sides,  and  so  escort  them  home.  They  called 
next  afternoon  upon  their  Dulcineas,  to  inquire  how  they  were, 
and  drink  tea.  The  fashionable  time  for  seeing  company  in 
those  days  was  the  evening,  when  people  were  all  abroad  upon 
the  street,  as  in  the  forenoon  now,  making  calls,  and  shopping. 
The  people  who  attended  the  assemblies  were  very  select. 
Moreover,  they  were  all  known  to  each  other ;  and  the  intro- 
duction of  a  stranger  required  nice  preliminaries.  It  is  said 
that  Miss  Murray,  on  hearing  a  young  lady's  name  pronounced 

for  the  first  time,  would  say :    '  Miss  ,  of  what  ? '     If  no 

territorial  addition  could  be  made,  she  manifestly  cooled.  Upon 
one  occasion,  seeing  a  man  at  the  assembly  who  was  born  in  a 
low  situation,  and  raised  to  wealth  in  some  humble  trade,  she 
went  up  to  him,  and,  without  the  least  deference  to  his  fine- 
laced  coat,  taxed  him  with  presumption  in  coming  there,  and 
turned  him  out  of  the  room. 

Major  Topham  praises  the  regularity  and  propriety  observed 
at  the  assemblies,  though  gently  insinuating  their  heaviness. 
He  says  :  '  I  was  never  at  an  assembly  where  the  authority  of 
the  manager  was  so  observed  or  respected.  With  the  utmost 
politeness,  affability,  and  good-humour.  Miss  Murray  attends  to 
every  one.     All  petitions  are  heard,  and  demands  granted,  which 


THE   BISHOPS   LAND,  29I 

appear  reasonable.  The  company  is  so  much  the  more  obliged 
to  Miss  Murray,  as  the  task  is  by  no  means  to  be  envied.  The 
crowd  which  immediately  surrounds  her  on  entering  the  room, 
the  impetuous  applications  of  chaperons,  maiden-aunts,  and  the 
earnest  entreaties  of  lovers  to  obtain  a  ticket  in  one  of  the  first 
sets  for  the  dear  object,  render  the  fatigue  of  the  office  of  lady- 
directress  almost  intolerable.' 

Early  hours  were  kept  in  those  days,  and  the  stinted  time  was 
never  exceeded.  Wlien  the  proper  hour  arrived  for  dissolving 
the  party,  and  the  young  people  would  crowd  round  the  throne 
to  petition  for  one  other  set,  up  rose  Miss  Nicky  in  unrelenting 
rigidity  of  figure,  and  with  one  wave  of  her  fan  silenced  the 
musicians  : 

'  Quick  from  the  summit  of  the  grove  they  fell, 
And  left  it  inharmonious.' 


[THE    BISHOP'S    LAND. 

On  the  north  side  of  the  High  Street,  a  hundred  yards  or  so 
below  the  North  Bridge,  there  existed  previous  to  1813  an 
unusually  large  and  handsome  old  land  or  building,  named  the 
BisJwfs  Land.  It  rested  upon  an  arcade  or  piazza,  as  it  is 
called,  and  the  entry  in  the  first  floor  bore  the  ordinary  legend  : 

BLISSIT   BE   ZE  LORD   FOR  ALL   HIS   GIFTIS, 

together  with  the  date  1578,  and  a  shield  impaled  with  two 
coats  of  arms.  Along  the  front  of  this  floor  was  a  balcony 
composed  of  brass,  a  thing  unique  in  the  ancient  city.  The 
house  had  been  the  Edinburgh  residence  of  Archbishop  John 
Spottiswood.  Most  unfortunately,  the  whole  line  of  building 
towards  the  street  was  burned  down  in  the  year  18 13. 

In  the  latter  part  of  the  last  century,  the  Bishop's  Land  was 
regarded  as  a  very  handsome  residence,  and  it  was  occupied 


292  TRADITIONS   OF  EDINBURGH. 

accordingly  by  persons  of  consideration.  The  dictum  of  an  old 
citizen  to  me  many  years  ago  was :  '  Nobody  without  livery- 
servants  lived  in  the  Bishop's  Land.'  Sir  Stuart  Threipland  of 
Fingask  occupied  the  first  floor.  His  estate,  forfeited  by  his 
father  in  1 7 1 6,  was  purchased  back  by  him,  with  money  obtained 
through  his  wife,  in  1784 ;  and  the  title,  which  was  always  given 
to  him  by  courtesy,  was  restored  as  a  reality  to  his  descendants 
by  George  IV.  He  had  himself  been  engaged  in  the  affair  of 
1745-6,  and  had  accompanied  '  the  Prince '  in  some  part  of  his 
wanderings.  In  the  hands  of  this  '  fine  old  Scottish  gentleman,' 
for  such  he  was,  his  house  in  the  Bishop's  Land  was  elegantly 
furnished,  there  being  in  particular  some  well-painted  portraits 
of  royal  personages — not  of  the  reigning  house.  These  had  all 
been  sent  to  his  father  and  himself  by  the  persons  represented 
in  them,  who  thus  shewed  their  gratitude  for  efforts  made  and 
sufferings  incurred  in  their  behalf  There  were  five  windows 
to  the  street ;  three  of  them  lighting  the  drawing-room ;  the 
remaining  two  lighted  the  eldest  son's  room.  A  dining-room, 
Sir  Stuart's  bed-room,  his  sister  Janet's  (who  kept  house  for  him) 
room,  and  other  apartments  were  in  the  rear,  some  lighted  from 
the  adjacent  close — and  these  still  exist,  having  been  spared  by 
the  fire.     The  kitchen  and  servants'  rooms  were  below. 

In  the  next  floor  above  lived  the  Hamiltons  of  Pencaitland ; 
in  the  next  again,  the  Aytouns  of  Inchdaimie.  Mrs  Aytoun, 
who  was  a  daughter  of  Lord  RoUo,  would  sometimes  come  down 
the  stair  in  a  winter  evening,  lighting  herself  with  a  little  wax- 
taper,  to  drink  tea  with  Mrs  Janet  Threipland,  for  so  she  called 
herself,  though  unmarried.  In  the  uppermost  floor  of  all  lived 
a  reputable  tailor  and  his  family.  All  the  various  tenants, 
including  the  tailor,  were  on  good  neighbourly  terms  with  each 
other ;  a  pleasant  thing  to  tell  of  this  bit  of  the  old  world,  which 
has  left  nothing  of  the  same  kind  behind  it  in  these  later  days, 
when  we  all  live  at  a  greater  distance,  physical  and  moral,  from 
each  other.] 


JOHN   KNOX's   MANSE.  293 


JOHN    KNOX'S   MANSE. 

The  lower  portion  of  the  High  Street,  including  the  Netherbow, 
was,  till  a  recent  time,  remarkable  for  the  antiquity  of  the 
greater  number  of  the  buildings,  insomuch  that  no  equal  portion 
of  the  city  was  more  distinctly  a  memorial  of  the  general  appear- 
ance of  the  whole,  as  it  was  in  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth 
centuries.  On  the  north  side  of  the  High  Street,  immediately 
adjacent  to  the  Netherbow,  there  was  a  nest  of  tall  wooden- 
fronted  houses,  of  one  character,  and  the  age  of  which  generally 
might  be  guessed  from  the  date  existing  upon  one — 1562, 
This  formed  a  perfect  example-  of  the  High  Gait,  as  it  appeared 
to  Queen  Mary,  excepting  that  the  open  booths  below  had  been 
converted  into  close  shops.  The  fore-stairs — that  is,  outside 
stairs  ascending  to  the  Jirst  fioor  (technically  so  called),  from 
which  the  women  of  Edinburgh  reviled  the  hapless  queen,  as 
she  rode  along  the  street  after  her  surrender  at  Carberry — ^were 
unchanged  in  this  little  district. 

The  popular  story  regarding  houses  of  this  kind  is,  that  they 
took  their  origin  in  an  inconvenience  which  was  felt  in  having 
the  Boroughmoor  covered  with  wood,  as  it  proved,  from  that 
circumstance,  a  harbour  for  robbers.  To  banish  the  robbers,  it 
was  necessary  to  extirpate  the  wood.  To  get  this  done,  the 
magistrates  granted  leave  to  the  citizens  to  project  their  house- 
fronts  seven  feet  into  the  street,  provided  they  should  execute 
the  work  with  timber  cut  from  the  Boroughmoor.  Robert 
Fergusson  follows  up  this  story  in  a  burlesque  poem,  by  relating 
how,  consequently, 

'  Edina's  mansions  with  lignarian  art 
Were  piled  and  fronted.     Like  an  ark  she  seemed 
To  lie  on  mountain's  top,  with  shapes  replete, 
Clean  and  iinclean 


294  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

To  Jove  the  Dryads  prayed,  nor  prayed  in  vain, 
For  vengeance  on  her  sons.     At  midnight  drear 
Black  showers  descend,  and  teeming  myriads  rise 
Of  bugs  abhorrent ' 

The  only  authentic  information  to  be  obtained  on  the  point  is 
presented  by  Maitland,  when  he  tells  us  that  the  clearing  of  the 
Boroughmoor  of  timber  took  place  in  consequence  of  a  charter 
from  James  IV.  in  1508.  He  says  nothing  of  robbers,  but 
attributes  the  permission  granted  by  the  magistrates  for  the 
making  of  wooden  projections  merely  to  their  desire  of  getting 
sale  for  their  timber.  After  all,  I  am  inclined  to  trace  this 
fashion  mainly  to  taste.  The  wooden  fronts  appear  to  have 
originated  in  open  galleries — an  arrangement  often  spoken  of  in 
early  writings.  These,  being  closed  up,  or  formed  into  a  range 
of  windows,  would  produce  the  wooden-fronted  house.  It  is 
remarkable  that  the  wooden  fronts  do  not,  in  many  instances, 
bear  the  appearance  of  after-thoughts,  as  the  stone  structure 
within  often  shews  such  an  arrangement  of  the  fore  wall,  as 
seems  designed  to  connect  the  projecting  part  with  the  cham- 
bers within,  or  to  give  these  chambers  as  much  as  possible  of 
the  borrowed  light.  At  the  same  time,  it  is  somewhat  puzzling 
to  find,  in  the  closes  below  the  buildings,  gateways  with  hooks 
for  hinges  seven  feet  or  so  from  the  present  street-front — an 
arrangement  which  does  not  appear  necessary  on  the  supposition 
that  the  houses  were  built  designedly  with  a  stone  interior  and  a 
wooden  projection. 

In  the  Netherbow,  the  street  receives  a  contraction  from  the 
advance  of  the  houses  on  the  north  side,  thus  closing  a  species 
of  parallelogram,  of  which  the  Luckenbooths  formed  the  upper 
extremity — the  market-place  of  our  ancient  city.  The  upper- 
most of  the  prominent  houses — ^having  of  course  two  fronts 
meeting  in  a  right  angle,  one  fronting  to  the  line  of  street,  the 
other  looking  up  the  High  Street — is  pointed  to  by  tradition  as 
the  residence  or  manse  of  John  Knox,  during  his  incumbency 
as  minister  of  Edinburgh,  from  1560  till  (with  few  interruptions) 
his  death  in  1572W    It  is  a  picturesque  building,  of  three  above- 


JOHN    KNOX's   MANSE.  295 

ground  floors,  constructed  of  substantial  ashlar  masonry,  but  on 
a  somewhat  small  scale,  and  terminating  in  curious  gables  and 
masses  of  chimneys.  A  narrow  door,  right  in  the  angle,  gives 
access  to  a  small  room,  lighted  by  one  long  window  presented 
to  the  westward,  and  apparently  the  hall  of  the  mansion  in 
former  times.  Over  the  window  and  door  is  this  legend,  in  an 
unusually  old  kind  of  lettering  : 

LVFE  •  GOD  •  ABVFE  *  AL  *  AND  *  YI  '  NYCHTBOVR  '  [AS  ']  YI  "  SELF  * 

The  word  *  as '  is  obliterated.  The  words  are,  in  modern 
English,  simply  the  well-known  scriptural  command :  '  Love 
God  above  all,  and  thy  neighbour  as  thyself.'  Perched  upon 
the  comer  above  the  door  is  a  small  effigy  of  the  Reformer, 
preaching  in  a  pulpit,  and  pointing  with  his  right  hand  to  a 
stone  above  his  head  in  that  direction,  which  presents  in  rude 
sculpture  the  sun  bursting  from  clouds,  with  the  name  of  the 
Deity  inscribed  on  his  disc  in  three  languages  : 

0EO2 

DEUS 
GOD 

Dr  M'Crie,  in  his  Life  of  John  Kjwx,  states  that  the  Reformer, 
on  commencing  duty  in  Edinburgh  at  the  conclusion  of  the 
struggles  with  the  queen-regent,  '  lodged  in  the  house  of  David 
Forrest,  a  burgess  of  Edinburgh,  from  which  he  removed  to  the 
lodging  which  had  belonged  to  Durie,  Abbot  of  Dunfennline.' 
The  magistrates  acted  liberally  towards  their  minister,  giving 
him  a  salary  of  two  hundred  pounds  Scottish  money,  and  paying 
his  house-rent  for  him,  at  the  rate  of  fifteen  merks  yearly.  In 
October  156 1,  they  ordained  the  dean  of  guild,  'with  al  diligence, 
to  mak  ane  warm  studye  of  dailies  to  the  minister,  Johne  Knox, 
within  his  hous,  aboue  the  hall  of  the  same,  with  lyht  and 
wyndokis  thereunto,  and  all  uther  necessaris.'  This  study  is 
generally  supposed  to  have  been  a  very  small  wooden  projection, 
of  the  kind  described  a  few  pages  back,  still  seen  on  the  front 
of  the  first  floor.     Close  to  it  is  a  window  in  the  angle  of  the 


296  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

building,  from  which  Knox  is  said  by  tradition  to  have  occasion- 
ally held  forth  to  multitudes  below. 

The  second  floor,  which  is  accessible  by  two  narrow  spiral 
stairs,  one  to  the  south,  another  to  the  west,  contains  a  tolerably 
spacious  room,  with  a  ceiling  ornamented  by  stucco  mouldings, 
and  a  window  presented  to  the  westward.  A  partition  has  at 
one  time  divided  this  room  from  a  narrow  one  towards  the 
north,  the  ceiling  of  which  is  composed  of  the  beams  and 
flooring  of  the  attic  flat,  all  curiously  painted  with  flower-work 
in  an  ancient  taste.  Two  inferior  rooms  extend  still  further  to 
the  northward.  It  is  to  be  remarked  that  the  wooden  projection 
already  spoken  of  extends  up  to  this  floor,  so  that  there  is  here 
likewise  a  small  room  in  front ;  it  contains  a  fireplace,  and  a 
recess  which  might  have  been  a  cupboard  or  a  library,  besides 
two  small  windows.  That  this  fireplace,  this  recess,  and  also 
the  door  by  which  the  wooden  chamber  is  entered  from  the 
decorated  room,  should  all  be  formed  in  the  front  wall  of  the 
house,  and  with  a  necessary  relation  to  the  wooden  projection, 
strikes  one  as  difficult  to  reconcile  with  the  idea  of  that  pro- 
jection being  an  after-thought ;  the  appearances  rather  indicate 
the  whole  having  been  formed  at  once,  as  parts  of  one  design. 
The  attic  floor  exhibits  strong  oaken  beams,  but  the  flooring  is 
in  bad  order. 

In  the  lower  part  of  the  house  there  is  a  small  room,  said  by 
tradition  to  have  been  used  in  times  of  difficulty  for  the  purpose 
of  baptising  children ;  there  is  also  a  well  to  supply  the  house 
with  water,  besides  a  secret  stair,  represented  as  communicating 
subterraneously  with  a  neighbouring  alley. 

From  the  size  of  this  house,  and  the  variety  of  accesses  to  it, 
it  becomes  tolerably  certain  that  Knox  could  have  only  occupied 
a  portion  of  it.  The  question  arises,  which  part  did  he  occupy  ? 
Probability  seems  decidedly  in  favour  of  the  Jirsi  floor — that 
containing  the  window  from  which  he  is  traditionally  said  to 
have  preached,  and  where  his  effigy  appears.  An  authentic  fact 
in  the  Reformer's  life  favours  this  supposition.  When  under 
danger  from  the  hostility  of  the  queen's  party  in  the  castle — in 


HYNDFORDS   CLOSE.  297 

the  spring  of  15  71 — '  one  evening  a  musket  ball  was  fired  in  at 
his  window,  and  lodged  in  the  roof  of  the  apartment  in  which 
he  was  sitting.  It  happened  that  he  sat  at  the  time  in  a 
different  part  of  the  room  from  that  which  he  had  been  accus- 
tomed to  occupy,  otherwise  the  ball,  from  the  direction  it  took, 
must  have  struck  him.' — M'Crie.  The  second  floor  is  too  high 
to  have  admitted  of  a  musket  being  fired  in  at  one  of  the 
windows.  A  ball  fired  in  at  the  ground-floor  would  not  have 
struck  the  ceiling.  The  only  feasible  supposition  in  the  case  is, 
that  the  Reformer  dwelt  in  \!a.&  first  fioor,  which  was  not  beyond 
an  assassin's  aim,  and  yet  at  such  a  height,  that  a  ball  fired  from 
the  street  would  hit  the  ceilina:. 


HYNDFORD'S    CLOSE. 

At  the  bottom  of  the  High  Street,  on  the  south  side,  there  is  an 
uncommonly  huge  and  dense  mass  of  stone  buildings  or  lands, 
penetrated  only  by  a  few  narrow  closes.  One  of  these  is  Hynd- 
ford's  Close,  a  name  indicating  the  noble  family  which  once  had 
lodgment  in  it.  This  was  a  Scotch  peerage  not  without  its 
glories — witness  particularly  the  third  earl,  who  acted  as  ambas- 
sador in  succession  to  Prussia,  to  Russia,  and  to  Vienna.  It  is 
now-  extinct :  its  bijouterie,  its  pictures,  including  portraits  of 
Maria  Theresa,  and  other  royal  and  imperial  personages,  which 
had  been  presented  as  friendly  memorials  to  the  ambassador, 
have  all  been  dispersed  by  the  salesman's  hammer,  and 
H}aidford's  Close,  on  my  trying  to  get  into  it  lately  (1868), 
was  inaccessible  (literally) "from  filth. 

The  entry  and  stair  at  the  head  of  the  close  on  the  west  side 
was  a  favourite  residence,  on  account  of  the  ready  access  to 
it  from  the  street.  In  the  second  floor  of  this  house,  lived 
about  the  beginning  of  the  reign  of  George  III.,  Lady  Maxwell 
of  Monreith,  and  there  brought  up  her  beautiful  daughters,  one 


298  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

of  whom  became  Duchess  of  Gordon.  The  house  had  a  dark 
passage,  and  the  kitchen  door  was  passed  in  going  to  the  dining- 
room,  according  to  an  agreeable  old  practice  in  Scotch  houses, 
which  lets  the  guests  know  on  entering  what  they  have  to  expect. 
The  fineries  of  Lady  Maxwell's  daughters  were  usually  hung  up, 
after  washing,  on  a  screen  in  this  passage,  to  dry ;  while  the 
coarser  articles  of  dress,  such  as  shifts  and  petticoats,  were  slung 
decently  out  of  sight  at  the  window,  upon  a  projecting  con- 
trivance similar  to  a  dyer's  pole,  of  which  numerous  specimens 
still  exist  at  windows  in  the  Old  Town,  for  the  convenience  of 
the  poorer  inhabitants. 

So  easy  and  familiar  were  the  manners  of  the  great  in  those 
times,  fabled  to  be  so  stiff  and  decorous,  that  Miss  EgHntoune, 
afterwards  Lady  Wallace,  used  to  be  sent  with  the  tea-kettle 
across  the  street  to  the  Fountain -Well  for  water  to  make  tea. 
Lady  Maxwell's  daughters  were  the  wildest  romps  imaginable. 
An  old  gentleman,  who  was  their  relation,  told  me  that  the  first 
time  he  saw  these  beautiful  girls  was  in  the  High  Street,  where 
Miss  Jane,  afterwards  Duchess  of  Gordon,  was  riding  upon  a 
sow,  which  Miss  Eglintoune  thumped  lustily  behind  with  a  stick. 
It  must  be  understood  that,  in  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth 
century,  vagrant  swine  went  as  commonly  about  the  streets  of 
Edinburgh  as  dogs  do  in  our  own  day,  and  were  more  generally 
fondled  as  pets  by  the  children  of  the  last  generation.*  It  may, 
however,  be  remarked,  that  the  sows  upon  which  the  Duchess 
of  Gordon  and  her  witty  sister  rode,  when  children,  were  not 
the  common  vagrants  of  the  High  Street,  but  belonged  to  Peter 
Ramsay,  of  the  inn  in  St  Mary's  Wynd,  and  were  among  the 
last  that  were  permitted  to  roam  abroad.  The  two  romps  used 
to  watch  the  animals  as  they  were  let  loose  in  the  forenoon 
from  the  stable-yard  (where  they  lived  among  the  horse-litter), 
and  get  upon  their  backs  the  moment  they  issued  from  the  close. 

*  The  following  advertisement,  inserted  in  the  Edininirgh  Courant  of  August  i,  1754, 
illustrates  the  above  in  a  striking  manner :  '  If  any  person  has  lost  a  large  sow,  let  them 
call  at  the  house  of  Robert  Fiddes,  gardener  to  Lord  Minto,  over  against  the  Earl  of 
Galloway's,  in  the  Horse  Wynd,  where,  upon  proving  the  property,  paying  expenses  and 
damages  done  by  the  said  sow,  they  may  have  the  same  restored.' 


hyndford's  close.  299 

The  extraordinary  cleverness,  the  genuine  wit,  and  the  delight- 
ful abandon  of  Lady  Wallace,  made  an  extraordinary  impression 
on  Scottish  society  in  her  day.  It  almost  seemed  as  if  some 
faculty  divine  had  inspired  her.  A  milliner,  bringing  home  a 
cap  to  her  when  she  was  just  about  to  set  off  to  the  Leith  races, 
was  so  unlucky  as  tear  it  against  the  buckle  of  a  porter's  knee 
in  the  street.  'No  matter,'  said  her  ladyship;  and  instantly 
putting  it  on,  restored  all  to  grace  by  a  single  pin.  The  cap, 
thus  mis-arranged,  was  found  so  perfectly  exquisite,  that  ladies 
tore  their  caps  on  nails,  and  pinned  them  on,  in  the  hope  of 
imitating  it.  It  was,  however,  a  grace  beyond  the  reach  of 
art. 

Of  the  many  bon  mots  attributed  to  her,  one  alone  seems 
worthy,  from  its  being  unhackneyed,  of  appearing  here.  The 
son  of  Mr  Kincaid,  king's  printer — a  great  Macaroni,  as  the 
phrase  went ;  that  is,  dandy — was  nicknamed,  from  his  father's 
lucrative  patent.  Young  Bibles.  This  beau  entering  a  ball-room 
one  evening,  some  of  the  company  asked  who  was  that  extra- 
ordinary-looking young  man.  '  Only  Young  Bibles,'  quoth  Lady 
Wallace,  'bound  in  calf,  and  gilt,  but  not  lettered!' 

[In  the  same  stair  in  Hyndford's  Close  lived  another  lady  of 
rank,  and  one  who,  for  several  reasons,  filled  in  her  time  a  broad 
space  in  society.  This  was  Anne,  Countess  of  Balcarres,  the 
progenitrix  of  perhaps  as  many  persons  as  ever  any  woman  was 
in  the  same  space  of  time.  Her  eldest  daughter,  Anne,  authoress 
of  the  ballad  oi  Auld  Robin  Gray,  was,  of  all  her  eleven  children, 
the  one  whose  name  is  most  likely  to  continue  in  remembrance 
— yea,  though  another  of  them  put  down  the  Maroon  war  in 
the  West  Indies.  When  in  Hyndford's  Close,  Lady  Balcarres 
had  for  a  neighbour  in  the  same  alley  Dr  Rutherford,  the  uncle 
of  Sir  Walter  Scott;  and  young  Walter,  often  at  his  uncle's, 
occasionally  accompanied  his  aunt  '  Jeanie '  to  Lady  Balcarres's. 
Forty  years  after,  having  occasion  to  correspond  with  Lady 
Annfe  Barnard,  nee  Lindsay,  he  told  her :  '  I  remember  all  the 
locale  of  Hyndford's  Close  perfectly,  even  to  the  Indian  screen 
with  Harlequin  and  Columbine,  and  the  harpsichord,  though  I 


300  TRADITIONS   OF  EDINBURGH. 

never  had  the  pleasure  of  hearing  Lady  Anne  play  upon  it.  I 
suppose  the  close,  once  too  clean  to  soil  the  hem  of  your 
ladyship's  garment,  is  now  a  resort  for  the  lowest  mechanics — 
and  so  wears  the  world  away.  ...  It  is,  to  be  sure,  more 
picturesque  to  lament  the  desolation  of  towers  on  hills  and 
haughs,  than  the  degradation  of  an  Edinburgh  close;  but  I 
cannot  help  thinking  on  the  simple  and  cosie  retreats  where 
worth  and  talent,  and  elegance  to  boot,  were  often  nestled,  and 
which  now  are  the  resort  of  misery,  filth,  poverty,  and  vice.'  * 

The  late  Mrs  Meetham,  a  younger  sister  of  Miss  Spence 
Yeaman,  of  Murie,  in  the  Carse  of  Gowrie,  had  often  heard  her 
grand-aunt.  Miss  Molly  Yeaman,  describe,  from  her  own 
recollection,  the  tea-drinkings  of  the  Countess  of  Balcarres  in 
Hyndford's  Close.  The  family  was  not  rich,  and  it  still  retained 
something  of  its  ancient  Jacobitism.  The  tea-drinkings,  as  was 
not  uncommon,  took  place  in  my  lady's  bed-room.  At  the  foot 
of  a  four-posted  bed,  exhibiting  a  finely  worked  coverlet,  stood 
John,  an  elderly  man-servant,  and  a  character,  in  full  Balcarres 
livery,  an  immense  quantity  of  worsted  lace  on  his  coat. 
Resting  with  his  arm  round  a  bedpost,  he  was  ready  to  hand 
the  kettle  when  required.  As  the  ladies  \vent  chattering  on, 
there  would  sometimes  occur  a  difficulty  about  a  date,  or  a 
point  in  genealogy,  and  then  John  was  appealed  to  to  settle  the 
question.  For  example,  it  came  to  be  debated  how  many  of 
tlie  Scotch  baronetcies  were  real ;  for,  as  is  still  the  case,  many 
of  them  were  known  to  be  fictitious,  or  assumed  without  legal 
grounds.  Here  John  was  known  to  be  not  only  learned,  but 
eloquent.     He  began :  *  Sir  James  Kinloch,  Sir  Stuart  Threip- 

land.  Sir  John  Wedderbum,  Sir Ogilvy,  Sir  James  Steuart 

of  Coltness '  [all  of  them  forfeited  baronets,  be  it  observed] : 
'  these,  leddies,  are  the  only  real  baronets.     For  the  rest,  I  do 

believe,  the  Deil ' then  a  figurative  declaration  not  fit  for 

modern  print,  but  which  made  the  Balcarres  party  only  laugh, 
and  declare  to  John  that  they  thought  him  not  far  wrong.] 

•  Lord  Lindsay's  Lives  of  the  Lindsays,  iii.  190. 


HOUSE   OF  THE   MARQUISES   OF   TWEEDDALE.  30!' 


HOUSE  OF  THE  MARQUISES  OF  TWEEDDALE 
—THE  BEGBIE   TEAGEDY. 

The  town  mansion  of  the  Marquises  of  Tweeddale  was  one  of 
large  extent  and  dimensions,  in  a  court  which  still  bears  the  title 
of  that  family,  nearly  opposite  to  the  mansion  of  John  Knox.* 
When  John,  the  fourth  marquis,  was  Secretary  of  State  for 
Scotland,  in  the  reign  of  George  II.,  this  must  have  been  a 
dwelling  of  considerable  importance  in  the  eyes  of  his  country- 
men. It  had  a  good  garden  in  the  rear,  witli  a  yard  and  coach 
entry  from  the  Cowgate.  Now,  all  the  buildings  and  'pertinents' 
are  in  the  occupation  of  Messrs  Oliver  and  Boyd,  the  well-known 
publishers. 

The  passage  from  the  street  into  Tweeddale  Court  is  narrow 
and  dark,  and  about  fifteen  yards  in  length.  Here,  in  1806, 
when  the  mansion  was  possessed  as  a  banking-house  by  the 
British  Linen  Company,  there  took  place  an  extraordinary 
tragedy*  About  five  o'clock  of  the  evening  of  the  13th  of 
November,  when  the  short  mid-winter  day  had  just  closed,  a 
child  who  lived  in  a  house  accessible  from  the  close  was  sent 
by  her  mother,  with  a  kettle,  to  obtain  a  supply  of  water  for 
tea  from  the  neighbouring  well.  The  little  girl,  stepping  with 
the  kettle  in  her  hand  out  of  the  public  stair  into  the  close, 
stumbled  in  the  dark  over  something  which  lay  there,  and  which 
proved  to  be  the  body  of  a  man  just  expiring.  On  an  alarm 
being  given,  it  was  discovered  that  this  was  William  Begbie,  a 
porter  connected  with  the  bank,  in  whose  heart  a  knife  was 
stuck  up  to  the  haft,  so  that  he  bled  to  death  before  uttering  a 

*  '  During  this  peaceable  time  [i66S — 1675],  he  [John,  Earl  of  Tweeddale]  built  the  park 
of  Vester  of  stone  and  limej  near  seven  miles  about,  in  seven  years'  time,  at  the  expense  of 
20,000  pound ;  bought  a  house  in  Edinburgh  from  Sir  William  Bruce  for  1000  pound  sterling, 
and  ane  other  house  within  the  same  court,  which,  being  rebuilt  from  the  foundation,  the 
price  of  it  and  reparations  of  both  stood  him  1000  sterling.' — Fatlier  Hay's  Genealosis  oj 
the  Hayes  of  Tweeddale  (Edinburgh,  183s),  p.  32. 


302  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

word  which  might  tend  to  explain  the  dismal  transaction.  He 
was  at  the  same  time  found  to  have  been  robbed  of  a  package 
of  notes  to  the  value  of  above  four  thousand  pounds,  which  he 
had  been  intrusted,  in  the  course  of  his  ordinary  duty,  to  carry 
from  the  branch  of  the  bank  at  Leith  to  the  head-office.*  The 
blow  had  been  given  with  an  accuracy,  and  a  calculation  of 
consequences,  shewing  the  most  appalling  deliberation  in  the 
assassin;  for  not  only  was  the  knife  directed  straight  into  the 
most  vital  part,  but  its  handle  had  been  muffled  in  a  bunch  of 
soft  paper,  so  as  to  prevent,  as  was  thought,  any  sprinkling  of 
blood  from  reaching  the  person  of  the  murderer,  by  which  he 
might  have  been,  by  some  chance,  detected.  The  knife  was 
one  of  those  with  broad  thin  blades  and  wooden  handles  which 
are  used  for  cutting  bread,  and  its  rounded  front  had  been 
ground  to  a  point,  apparently  for  the  execution  of  this  horrible 
deed.  The  unfortunate  man  left  a  wife  and  four  children  to 
bewail  his  loss. 

The  singular  nature  and  circumstances  of  Begbie's  murder 
occasioned  mtich  excitement  in  the  public  mind,  and  every 
effort  was  of  course  made  to  discover  the  guilty  party.  No 
house  of  a  suspicious  character  in  the  city  was  left  unsearched, 
and  parties  were  despatched  to  watch  and  patrol  all  the  various 
roads  leading  out  into  the  country.  The  bank  offered  a  reward 
of  five  hundred  pounds  for  such  information  as  might  lead  to 
the  conviction  of  the  offender  or  offenders;  and  the  govern- 
ment further  promised  the  king's  'pardon  to  any  except  the 
actual  murderer,  who,  having  been  concerned  in  the  deed, 
might  discover  their  accomplices.  The  sheriff  of  Edinburgh, 
Mr  Clerk  Rattray,  displayed  the  greatest  zeal  in  his  endeavoius 
to  ascertain  the  circumstances  of  the  murder,  and  to  detect  and 
seize  the  murderer,  but  with  surprisingly  little  success.  All  that 
could  be  ascertained  was,  that  Begbie,  in  proceeding  up  Leith 
Walk  on  his  fatal  mission,  had  been  accompanied  by  'a  man;' 

*  The  notes  are  thus  described  in  the  Hue  and  Cry :  ;^i300  in  twenty-pound  notes  of  Sir 
W.  Forbes  and  Company ;  ^looo  in  twenty-pound  notes  of  the  Leith  Banking  Company ; 
JC1400  In  twenty,  ten,  and  five  pound  notes  of  different  banks ;  240  guinea  and  440  poimd 
notes  of  different  banks — in  al),  ^4392. 


THE   BEGBIE   TRAGEDY.  303 

and  that,  about  the  supposed  time  of  the  murder,  '  a  man '  had 
been  seen  by  some  children  to  run  out  of  the  close  into  the 
street,  and  down  Leith  Wynd,  a  lane  leading  off  from  the 
Netherbow  at  a  point  nearly  opposite  to  the  close.  There  was 
also  reason  to  believe  that  the  knife  had  been  bought  in  a  shop 
about  two  o'clock  on  the  day  of  the  murder,  and  that  it  had 
been  afterwards  ground  upon  a  grinding-stone,  and  smoothed  on 
a  hone.  A  number  of  suspicious  characters  were  apprehended 
and  examined;  but  all,  with  one  exception,  produced  satis- 
factory proofs  of  their  innocence.  The  exception  was  a  carrier 
between  Perth  and  Edinburgh,  a  man  of  dissolute  and  irregular 
habits,  of  great  bodily  strength,  and  known  to  be  a  dangerous 
and  desperate  character.  He  was  kept  in  custody  for  a  con- 
siderable time  on  suspicion,  having  been  seen  in  the  Canongate, 
near  the  scene  of  the  murder,  a  very  short  time  after  it  was 
committed.  It  has  since  been  ascertained  that  he  was  then 
going  about  a  different  business,  the  disclosure  of  which  would 
have  subjected  him  to  a  capital  punishment.  It  was  in  con- 
sequence of  the  mystery  he  felt  himself  impelled  to  preserve  on 
this  subject,  that  he  was  kept  so  long  in  custody;  but  at  length 
facts  and  circumstances  came  out  to  warrant  his  discharge,  and 
he  was  discharged  accordingly. 

Months  rolled  on,  without  eliciting  any  evidence  respecting 
the  murder,  and,  like  other  wonders,  it  had  ceased  in  a  great 
measure  to  engage  public  attention,  when,  on  the  loth  of 
August  1807,  a  journeyman  mason,  in  company  with  two  other 
men,  passing  through  the  Bellevue  grounds  in  the  neighbour- 
hood of  the  city,  found,  in  a  hole  in  a  stone  enclosure,  by  the 
side  of  a  hedge,  a  parcel  containing  a  large  quantity  of  bank- 
notes, bearing  the  appearance  of  having  been  a  good  while 
exposed  to  the  weather.  After  consulting  a  little,  the  men 
carried  the  package  to  the  sheriff's  ofhce,  where  it  was  found  to 
contain  about  ;^3ooo  in  large  notes,  being  those  which  had  been 
taken  from  Begbie.  The  British  Linen  Company  rewarded  the 
men  with  two  hundred  pounds  for  their  honesty;  but  the  circum- 
stance passed  without  throwing  any  light  on  the  murder  itsel£ 


304  TRADITIONS  OF   EDINBURGH. 

Up  to  the  present  day,  the  murderer  of  Begbie  has  not 
been  discovered ;  nor  is  it  probable,  after  the  space  of  time 
which  has  elapsed,  that  he  ever  will  be  so.  It  is  most  likely 
that  the  grave  has  long  closed  upon  him.  The  only  person 
on  whom  public  suspicion  alighted  with  any  force  during 
the  sixteen  years  ensuing  upon  the  transaction,  was  a  medical 
practitioner  in  Leith,  a  dissolute  man  and  a  gambler,  who  put 
an  end  to  his  own  existence  not  long  after  the  murder.  But  I 
am  not  acquainted  with  any  particular  circumstances  on  which 
this  suspicion  was  grounded,  beyond  the  suicide,  which  might 
spring  from  other  causes.  It  was  not  till  1822  that  any  further 
light  was  throAvn  on  this  mysterious  case.  In  a  work  then 
published  under  the  title  of  The  Life  and  Trial  of  James 
Mackoull^  there  was  included  a  paper  by  Mr  Denovan,  the  Bow 
Street  officer,  the  object  of  which  was  to  prove  that  Mackoull 
was  the  murderer,  and  which  contained  at  least  one  very  curious 
statement. 

Mr  Denovan  had  discovered  in  Leith  a  man,  then  acting  as  a 
teacher,  but  who,  in  1806,  was  a  sailor  boy,  and  who  had 
witnessed  some  circumstances  immediately  connected  with  the 
murder.  The  man's  statement  was  as  follows :  '  I  was  at  that 
time  (November  1806)  a  boy  of  fourteen  years  of  age.  The 
vessel  to  which  I  belonged  had  made  a  voyage  to  Lisbon,  and 
was  then  lying  in  Leith  harbour.  I  had  brought  a  small  present 
from  Portugal  for  my  mother  and  sister,  who  resided  in  the 
Netherbow,  Edinburgh,  immediately  opposite  to  Tweeddale's 
Close,  leading  to  the  British  Linen  Company's  Bank.  I  left  the 
vessel  late  in  the  afternoon,  and  as  the  articles  I  had  brought 
were  contraband,  I  put  them  under  my  jacket,  and  was  pro- 
ceeding up  Leith  Walk,  when  I  perceived  a  tall  man  carrying  a 
yellow-coloured  parcel  under  his  arm,  and  a  genteel  man, 
dressed  in  a  black  coat,  dogging  him.  I  was  a  little  afraid :  I 
conceived  the  man  who  carried  the  parcel  to  be  a  smuggler, 
and  the  gentleman  who  followed  him  to  be  a  custom-house  or 
_  excise  officer.  In  dogging  the  man,  the  supposed  officer  went 
from  one  side  'of  the  Walk  to  the  other  [the  Walk  is  a  broad 


THE   BEGBIE  TRAGEDY,  305 

Street],  as  if  afraid  of  being  noticed,  but  still  kept  about  the 
same  distance  behind  him.  I  was  afraid  of  losing  what  I 
carried,  and  shortened  sail  a  little,  keeping  my  eyes  fixed  on  the 
,  person  I  supposed  to  be  an  officer,  until  I  came  to  the  head  of 
Leith  Street,  when  I  saw  the  smuggler  take  the  North  Bridge, 
and  the  custom-house  officer  go  in  front  of  the  Register  Office ; 
here  he  looked  round  him,  and  imagining  ;he  was  looking  for 
me,  I  hove  to,  and  watched  him.  He  then  looked  up  the 
North  Bridge,  and,  as  I  conceive,  followed  the  smuggler,  for 
he  went  the  same  way,  I  stood  a  minute  or  tft'^o  where  I  was, 
and  then  went  forward,  walking  slowly  up  the  North  Bridge.  I 
did  not,  however,  see  either  of  the  men  before  me :  and  when  I 
came  to  the  south  end  or  head  of  the  Bridge,  supposing  that 
they  might  have  gone  up  the  High  Street,  or  along  the  South 
Bridge,  I  tiurned  to  the  left,  and  reached  the  Netherbow,  without 
again  seeing  either  the  smuggler  or  the  officer.  Just,  however, 
as  I  came  opposite  to  Tweeddale's  Close,  I  saw  the  custom-house 
officer  cmie  rtmiiiiig  out  of  it,  with  something  under  his  coat :  I 
think  he  ran  down  the  street.  Being  much  alarmed,  and  sup- 
posing that  the  officer  had  also  seen  me,  and  knew  what  I 
carried,  I  deposited  my  little  present  in  my  mother's  with  all 
possible  speed,  and  made  the  best  of  my  way  to  Leith,  without 
hearing  anything  of  the  murder  of  Begbie  until  next  day.  On 
coming  on  board  the  vessel,  I  told  the  mate  what  a  narrow 
escape  I  conceived  I  had  made :  he  seemed  somewhat  alarmed 
(having  probably,  like  myself,  smuggled  some  trifling  article 
from  Portugal),  and  told  me  in  a  peremptory  tone  that  I  should 
not  go  ashore  again  without  first  acquainting  him.  I  certainly 
heard  of  the  murder  before  I  left  Leith,  and  concluded  that  the 
man  I  saw  was  the  murderer ;  but  the  idea  of  waiting  on  a 
magistrate  and  communicating  what  I  [had  seen  never  struck 
me.  We  sailed  in  a  few  days  thereafter  from  Leith ;  and  the 
vessel  to  which  I  belonged  having  been  captured  by  a  privateer, 
I  was  carried  to  a  French  prison,  and  only  regained  my  liberty 
at  the  last  peace.  I  can  now  recollect  distinctly  the  figure  of 
the  man  I  saw ;  he  was  well  dressed,  had  a  genteel  appearance, 


306  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

and  wore  a  black  coat.  I  never  saw  his  face  properly,  for  he 
was  before  me  the  whole  way  up  the  Walk ;  I  think,  however,. 
he  was  a  stout  big  man,  but  not  so  tall  as  the  man  I  then 
conceived  to  be  a  smuggler.' 

This  description  of  the  supposed  custom-house  officer  coin- 
cides exactly  with  that  of  the  appearance  of  Mackoull;  and 
other  circumstances  are  given  which  almost  make  it  certain  that 
he  was  the  murderer.  This  Mackoull  was  a  London  rogue  of 
unparalleled  effrontery  and  dexterity,  who  for  years  haunted 
Scotland,  and  effected  some  daring  robberies.  He  resided  in 
Edinburgh  from  September  1805  till  the  close  of  1806,  and 
during  that  time  frequented  a  coffee-house  in  the  Ship  Taver7i  at 
Leith.  He  professed  to  be  a  merchant  expelled  by  the  threats 
of  the  French  from  Hamburg,  and  to  live  by  a  new  mode  of 
dyeing  skins,  but  in  reality  he  practised  the  arts  of  a  gambler 
and  a  pickpocket.  He  had  a  mean  lodging  at  the  bottom  of 
New  Street  in  the  Canongate,  near  the  scene  of  the  murder  of 
Begbie,  and  to  which  it  is  remarkable  that  Leith  Wynd  was  the 
readiest  as  well  as  most  private  access  from  that  spot.  No 
suspicion,  however,  fell  upon  Mackoull  at  this  period,  and  he 
left  the  country  for  a  number  of  years,  at  the  end  of  which  time 
he  visited  Glasgow,  and  there  effected  a  robbery  of  one  of  the 
banks.  For  this  crime  he  did  not  escape  the  law.  He  was 
brought  to  trial  at  Edinburgh  in  1820,  was  condemned  to  be 
executed,  but  died  in  jail  while  under  reprieve  from  his 
sentence. 

The  most  striking  part  of  the  evidence  which  Mr  Denovan . 
adduces  against  Mackoull,  is  the  report  of  a  conversation  which 
he  had  with  that  person  in  the  condemned  cell  of  the  Edinburgh 
jail,  in  July  1820,  when  Mackoull  was  very  doubtful  of  being 
reprieved.  To  pursue  his  own  narrative,  which  is  in  the  third 
person :  '  He  told  Captain  Sibbald  [the  superior  of  the  prison] 
that  he  intended  to  ask  Mackoull  a  single  question  relative  to 
the  murder  of  Begbie,  but  would  first  humour  him  by  a  few 
jokes,  so  as  to  throw  him  off  his  guard,  and  prevent  him  from 
thinking  he  had  called  for  any  particular  purpose  [it  is  to  be 


THE   BEGBIE   TRAGEDY.  307 

observed  that  Mr  Denovan  had  a  professional  acquaintance 
with  the  condemned  man] ;  but  desired  Captain  Sibbald  to 
watch  the  features  of  the  prisoner  when  he  (Denovan)  put  his 
hand  to  his  chin,  for  he  would  then  put  the  question  he  meant. 
After  talking  some  time  on  different  topics,  Mr  Denovan  put 
this  very  simple  question  to  the  prisoner :  "  By  the  way, 
MackouU,  if  I  am  correct,  you  resided  at  the  foot  of  New  Street, 
Canongate,  in  November  1806 — did  you  not?"  He  stared — 
he  rolled  his  eyes,  and,  as  if  falling  into  a  convulsion,  threw 
himself  back  upon  his  bed.  In  this  condition  he  continued  for 
a  few  moments,  when,  as  if  recollecting  himself,  he  started  up, 

exclaiming  wildly :  "  No, !     I  was  then  in  the  East 

Indies — in  the  West  Indies.  What  do  you  mean ? "  "I  mean 
no  harm,  MackouU,"  he  replied ;  "  I  merely  asked  the  question 
for  my  own  curiosity ;  for  I  think  when  you  left  these  lodgings, 
you  went  to  Dublin.  Is  it  not  so?"  "Yes, 'yes,  I  went  to 
Dublin,"  he  replied ;  "  and  I  wish  I  had  remained  there  still. 
I  won  ;^io,ooo  there  at  the  tables,  and  never  knew  what  it 
was  to  want  cash,  although  you  wished  the  folks  here  to  believe 
that  they  locked  me  up  in  Old  Start  (Newgate),  and  brought 
down  your  friend  Adkins  to  swear  he  saw  me  there :  this  was 
more  than  your  duty."  He  now  seemed  to  rave,  and  lose  all 
temper,  and  his  visitor  bade  him  good-night,  and  left  him.' 

It  appears  extremely  probable,  from  the  strong  circumstantial 
evidence  which  has  been  offered  by  Mr  Denovan,  that  MackouU 
was  the  murderer  of  Begbie. 

One  remaining  fact  regarding  the  Netherbow  will  be  listened 
to  with  some  interest.  It  was  the  home — perhaps  the  native 
spot — of  William  Falconer,  the  author  of  Tke  Shipwreck,  whose 
father  was  a  wigmaker  in  this  street. 


308  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 


[THE    LADIES    OF    TRAQUAIR. 

Lady  Lovat  was  at  the  head  of  a  genus  of  old  ladies  of  quality,- 
who,  during  the  last  century,  resided  in  third  and  fomth  Jiafs  of 
Old-town  houses,  wore  pattens  when  they  went  abroad,  had 
miniatures  of  the  Pretender  next  their  hearts,  and  gave  tea  and 
card  parties  regularly  every  fortnight.  Almost  every  generation 
of  a  Scottish  family  of  rank,  besides  throwing  off  its  swarm  of 
male  cadets,  who  went  abroad  in  quest  of  fortune,  used  to'' 
produce  a  corresponding  number  of  daughters,  who  stayed  at 
home,  and  for  the  most  part  became  old  maids.  These  gentle- 
women, after  the  death  of  their  parents,  when,  of  course,  a 
brother  or  nephew  succeeded  to  the  family  seat  and  estate,  were 
compelled  to  leave  home,  and  make  room  for  the  new  laird  to 
bring  up  a  new  generation,  destined  in  time  to  experience  the 
same  fate.  Many  of  these  ladies,  who  in  Catholic  countries 
would  have  found  protection  in  nunneries,  resorted  to  Edinburgh, 
where,  with  the  moderate  family  provision  assigned  them,  they 
passed  inoffensive  and  sometimes  useful  lives,  the  peace  of 
which  was  seldom  broken  otherwise  than  by  irruptions  of  their 
grand-nephews,  who  came  with  the  hunger  of  High  School 
boys,  or  by  the  more  stately  calls  of  their  landed  cousins  and 
brothers,  who  rendered  their  visits  the  more  auspicious  by  a 
pound  of  hyson  for  the  caddy,  or  a  replenishment  of  rappee  for 
the  snuff-box.  The  /eddies,  as  they  were  called,  were  at  once 
the  terror  and  the  admiration  of  their  neighbours  in  the  stair, 
who  looked  up  to  them  as  the  patronesses  of  the  la^id,  and  as 
shedding  a  light  of  gentility  over  the  flats  below. 

In  the  best  days  of  the  Old  Town,  people  of  all  ranks  lived 
very  closely  and  cordially  together,  and  the  whole  world  were 
in  a  manner  next-door  neighbours.  The  population  being  dense, 
and  the  toAvn  small,  the  distance  between  the  houses  of  friends 
was  seldom  considerable.     When  a  hundred  friends  lived  within 


THE   LADIES   OF   TRAQUAIR.  309 

the  space  of  so  many  yards,  the  company  was  easily  collected  ; 
and,  consequently,  meetings  took  place  more  frequently,  and 
upon  more  trivial  occasions,  than  in  these  latter  days  of  stately 
dinners  and  fantastic  balls.  Tea — simple  tea^-was  then  almost 
the  only  meal  to  which  invitations  were  given.  Tea-parties, 
assembling  at  four  o'clock,  were  resorted  to  by  all  who  wished 
for  elegant  social  intercourse.  There  was  much  careful  cere- 
monial in  the  dispensation  of  those  pretty  small  china  cups, 
individualised  by  the  numbers  marked  on  each  of  the  miniature 
spoons  which  circulated  with  them,  and  of  which  four  or  five 
returns  were  not  uncommon.  The  spoon  in  the  saucer  indicated 
a  wish  for  more — in  the  cup  the  reverse.  A  few  tunes  on  the 
spinet — a  Scotch  song  from  some  young  lady,  solo — and  the 
unfailing  whist-table — furnished  the  entertainment.  At  eight 
o'clock  to  a  minute  would  arrive  the  sedan,  or  the  lass  with 
the  lantern  and  pattens,  and  the  whole  company  would  be  at 
home  before  the  eight  o'clock  drum  of  the  Town-guard  had 
ceased  to  beat. 

In  a  house  at  the  head  of  the  Canongate,  but  having  its 
entrance  from  St  Mary's  Wynd,  and  several  stairs  up,  lived  two 
old  maiden  ladies  of  the  house  of  Traquair — the  Ladies  Barbara 
and  Margaret  Stuart.  They  were  twins,  the  children  of  Charles, 
the  fourth  earl,  and  their  birth  on  the  3d  of  September,  the 
anniversary  of  the  death  of  Cromwell,  brought  a  Latin  epigram 
from  Dr  Pitcairn — of  course  previous  to  17 13,  which  was  the 
year  of  his  own  death.  The  learned  doctor  anticipated  for  them 
*  timid  wooers,'  but  they  nevertheless  came  to  old  age  unmarried. 
They  drew  out  their  innocent  retired  lives  in  this  place,  where, 
latterly,  one  of  their  favourite  amusements  was  to  make  dolls, 
and  little  beds  for  them  to  lie  on — a  practice  not  quite  uncommon 
in  days  long  gone  by,  being  to  some  degree  followed  by  Queen 
Mary.* 

*  * deliure  a  Jacques  le  tailleur  deux  chanteaux  de  damas  gris  broches  dor  pour  faire 

vne  robbe  a  vne  poupine ;'  also  '  trois  quartz  et  demi  de  toille  dargent  et  de  soze  blanche 
pour  faire  vne  cotte  et  aultre  chose  a  des  poupines.' — Caialogtces  of  the  Jewels,  Dresses, 
Furniture,  &r'c.  of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots,  edited  by  Joseph  Robertson.  Edinburgh,  1863, 
p.  139- 


3IO  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

I  may  give,  in  the  words  of  a  long-deceased  correspondent, 
an  anecdote  of  the  ladies  of  Traquair,  referring  to  the  days  when 
potatoes  had  as  yet  an  equivocal  reputation,  and  illustrative  of 
the  frugal  scale  by  which  our  leddies  were  in  use  to  measure 
the  luxuries  of  their  table.  '  Upon  the  return  one  day  of  their 
weekly  ambassador  to  the  market,  and  the  anxious  investigation 
by  the  old  ladies  of  the  contents  of  Jenny's  basket,  the  little 
morsel  of  mutton,  with  a  portion  of  accompanying  off-falls,  was 
duly  approved  of.  "  But,  Jenny,  what 's  this  in  the  bottom  of 
the  basket?"  "Oo,  mem,  just  a  dozen  o'  'taties  that  Lucky, 
the  green-wife,  wad  ha'e  me  to  tak' — they  wad  eat  sae  fine  Avi' 
the  mutton."  "  Na,  na,  Jenny ;  tak'  back  the  'taties — we  need 
nae  provocatives  in  this  house."' 

The  latest  survivor  of  these  Traquair  ladies  died  in  1794.] 


GREYFRIARS    CHURCHYARD. 

Signing  of  the  Covenant — Henderson's  Monument — Bothwell  Bridge 
Prisoners — A  Romance. 

This  old  cemetery — the  burial-place  of  Buchanan,*  George 
Jameson  the  painter,  Principal  Robertson,  Dr  Blair,  Allan 
Ramsay,  Henry  Mackenzie,  and  many  other  men  of  note — 
whose  walls  are  a  circle  of  aristocratic  sepulchres,  will  ever  be 
memorable  as  the  scene  of  the  Signing  of  the  Covenant;  the 

*  A  skull,  represented  as  Buchanan's,  has  long  been  shewn  in  the  College  of  Edinhurgh. 
It  is  extremely  thin,  and  being  long  ago  shewn  in  company  with  that  of  a  known  idiot, 
which  was,  on  the  contrary,  very  thick,  it  seemed  to  form  a  commentary  upon  the  popular 
expression,  which  sets  forth  density  of  bone  as  an  invariable  accompaniment  of  paucity  of 
brain.  The  author  of  a  diatribe,  called  Scotland  Characterised,  which  was  published  in 
1701,  and  may  be  found  in  the  Harleian  Miscellany,  tells  us  that  he  had  seen  the  skull  in 
question,  and  that  it  bore  'a  very  pretty  distich  upon  it* — the  first  line  I  have  forgot,  but 
the  second  was 

"  Et  decus  es  tumulo  jam,  Biichanane,  tuo." 


•  The  composition  of  Principal  Adamson,  who  had  caused  the  skull  to  be  lifted. 


BOTHWELL   BRIDGE   PRISONERS.  31I 

document  having  first  been  produced  in  the  church,  after  a 
sermon  by  Alexander  Henderson,  and  signed  by  all  the  con- 
gregation, from  the  Earl  of  Sutherland  downward,  after  which  it 
was  handed  out  to  the  multitudes  assembled  in  the  kirkyard, 
and  signed  on  the  flat  monuments,  amidst  tears,  prayers,  and 
aspirations  which  could  find  no  words ;  some  writing  with  their 
blood  !  Near  by,  resting  well  from  all  these  struggles,  lies  the 
preacher  under  a  square  obelisk-like  monument ;  near  also  rests, 
in  equal  peace,  the  Covenant's  enemy,  Sir  George  Mackenzie. 
The  inscriptions  on  Henderson's  stone  were  ordered  by  parlia- 
ment to  be  erased  at  the  Restoration;  and  small  depressions  are 
pointed  out  in  it  as  having  been  inflicted  by  bullets  from  the 
soldiery  when  executing  this  order.  With  the  '88  came  a  new 
order  of  things,  and  the  inscriptions  were  then  quietly  reinstated. 

BOTHWELL   BRIDGE   PRISONERS. 

As  if  there  had  been  some  destiny  in  the  matter,  the  Grey^ 
friars  Churchyard  became  connected  with  another  remarkable 
event  in  the  religious  troubles  of  the  seventeenth  century.  At 
the  south-west  angle,  accessible  'by  an  old  gateway  bearing 
emblems  of  mortality,  and  which  is  fitted  with  an  iron-rail  gate 
of  very  old  workmanship,  is  a  kind  of  supplement  to  the 
burying-ground — an  oblong  space,  now  having  a  line  of 
sepulchral  enclosures  on  each  side,  but  formerly  empty.  On 
these  enclosures  the  visitor  may  remark,  as  he  passes,  certain 
names  venerable  in  the  history  of  science  and  of  letters ;  as,  for 
instance,  Joseph  Black  and  Alexander  Tytler.  On  one  he  sees 
the  name  of  Gilbert  Innes  of  Stow,  who  left  a  million,  to  take 
six  feet  of  earth  here.  These,  however,  do  not  form  the  matter 
in  point.  Every  lesser  particular  becotaes  trivial  beside  the 
extraordinary  use  to  which  the  place  was  put  by  the  government 
in  the  year  1679.  Several  hundred  of  the  prisoners  taken  at 
Bothwell  Bridge  were  confined  here  in  the  open  air,  under 
circumstances  of  privation  now  scarce  credible.  They  had 
hardly  anything  either  to  lie  upon  or  to  cover  them;  their 
allowance  of  provision  was  four  ounces  of  bread  per  day,  with 


312  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

water  derived  from  one  of  the  city  pipes,  which  passed  near  the 
place.  They  were  guarded  by  day  by  eight,  and  through  the 
night  by  twenty-four  men;  and  the  soldiers  were  told  that  if 
any  prisoner  escaped,  they  should  answer  it  life  for  life  by  cast 
of  dice.  If  any  prisoner  rose  from  the  ground  by  night,  he  was 
shot  at.  Women  alone  were  permitted  to  commune  with  them, 
and  bring  them  food  or  clothes ;  but  these  had  often  to  stand 
at  the  entrance  from  morning  till  night  without  getting  access, 
and  were  frequently^  insulted  and  maltreated  by  the  soldiers, 
without  the  prisoners  being  able  to  protect  them,  although  in 
many  cases  related  by  the  most  endearing  ties.  In  the  course 
of  several  weeks  a  considerable  number  of  the  prisoners  had 
been  liberated  upon  signing  a  bond,  in  which  they  promised 
never  again  to  take  up  arms  against  the  king,  or  without  his 
authority;  but  it  appears  that  about  four  hundred,  refusing 
mercy  on  such  terms,  were  kept  an  this  frightful  bivouac  for 
five  months,  being  only  allowed,  at  the  approach  of  winter,  to 
have  shingle  huts  erected  over  them,  which  was  boasted  of  as  a 
great  mercy.  Finally,  on  the  15  th  of  November,  a  remnant, 
numbering  two  hundred  and  fifty-seven,  were  put  on  board  a 
ship  to  be  sent  to  Barbadoes.  The  vessel  was  wrecked  on  one 
of  the  Orkney  islands,  when  only  about  forty  came  ashore  alive. 
From  the  gloom  of  this  sad  history  there  is  shed  one  ray  of 
romance.  Amongst  the  charitable  women  of  Edinburgh  who 
came  to  administer  to  the  prisoners,  there  was  one  attended  by 
a  daughter — a  young,  and,  at  least  by  right  of  romance,  a  fair 
girl.  Every  few  days  they  approached  this  iron  gate  with  food 
and  clothes,  either  from  their  own  stores,  or  collected  among 
neighbours.  Between  the  young  lady  and  one  of  the  juvenile 
prisoners  an  attachment  sprung  up.  Doubtless  she  loved  him 
for  the  dangers  he  had  passed  in  so  good  a  cause,  and  he  loved 
her  because  she  pitied  them.  In  happier  days,  long  after,  when 
their  constancy  had  been  well  tried  by  an  exile  which  he 
suffered  in  the  plantations,  this  pair  were  married,  and  settled 
in  Edinburgh,  where  they  had  sons  and  daughters.  A  respect- 
able elderly  citizen  tells  me  he  is  descended  from  them. 


STORY   OF  MRS   MACFARLANE.  313 


'     STORY    OF    MRS    MACFARLANE. 

'  Let  them  say  I  am  romantic ;  so  is  every  one  said  to  be  that  either 
admires  a  fine  thing  or  does  one.  On  my  conscience,  as  the  world  goes,  'tis 
hardly  worth  anybody's  while  to  do  one  for  the  honour  of  it.  Glory,  the 
only  pay  of  generous  actions,  is  now  as  ill  paid  as  other  just  debts ;  and 
neither  Mrs  Macfarland  for  immolating  her  lover,  nor  you  for  constancy  to 
your  lord,  must  ever  hope  to  be  compared  to  Lucretia  or  Portia.' — Pope  to 
Lady  Mary  W.  Montagu. 

Pope  here  alludes  to  a  tragical  incident  which  took  place  in 
Edinburgh  on  the  2d  of  October  17 16.  The  victim  was  a 
young  Englishman,  who  had  been  sent  down  to  Scotland  as  a 
Commissioner  of  Customs.  It  appears  that  Squire  Cayley,  or 
Captain  Cayley,  as  he  was  alternatively  called,  had  become  the 
slave  of  a  shameful  passion  towards  Mrs  Macfarlane,  a  woman  of 
uncommon  beauty,  the  wife  of  Mr  John  Macfarlane,  Writer  to 
the  Signet  in  Edinburgh.  One  Saturday  forenoon,  Mrs  Mac- 
farlane was  exposed,  by  the  treachery  of  Captain  Cayley's  land- 
lady, with  whom  she  was  acquainted,  to  an  insult  of  the  most 
atrocious  kind  on  his  part,  in  the'  house  where  he  lodged,  which 
seems  to  have  been  situated  in  a  close  in  the  Cowgate,  opposite 
to  what  were  called  the  Back  Stairs.  Next  Tuesday,  Mr 
Cayley  waited  upon  Mrs  Macfarlane  at  her  own  house,  and  was 
shewn  into  the  drawing-room.  According  to  an  account  given 
out  by  his  friends,  he  was  anxious  to  apologise  for  his  former 
rudeness.  From  another  account,  it  would  appear  that  he  had 
circulated  reports  derogatory  to  the  lady's  honour,  which  she 
was  resolved  to  punish.  A  third  story  represents  him  as  having 
repeated  the  insult  which  he  had  formerly  offered ;  whereupon 
she  went  into  another  room,  and  presently  came  back  with  a 
pair  of  pistols  in  her  hand.  On  her  bidding  him  leave  the 
house  instantly,  he  said :  '  What,  madam,  d'ye  design  to  act  a 
comedy?'    To  which  she  answered,  that  ^ he  woitld find  it  a 


314  TRADITIONS    OF   EDINBURGH. 

tragedy  if  he  did  not  retire!!  The  infatuated  man  not  obeying 
her  command,  she  fired  one  of  the  pistols,  which,  however,  only 
wounded  him  slightly  in  the  left  wrist,  the  bullet  slanting  down 
into  the  floor.  The  mere  instinct,  probably,  of  self-preservation, 
caused  him  to  draw  his  sword ;  but  before  he  could  use  it,  she 
fired  the  other  pistol,  the  shot  of  which  penetrated  his  heart. 
*  This  dispute,'  says  a  letter  of  the  day,  *  was  so  close,  that  Mr 
Cayley's  shirt  was  burnt  at  the  sleeves  with  the  fire  of  one  of  the 
pistols,  and  his  cravat  and  the  breast  of  his  shirt  with  the  fire  of 
the  other.*  Mrs  Macfarlane  immediately  left  the  room,  locking 
the  door  upon  the  dead  body,  and  sent  a  servant  for  her 
husband,  who  was  found  at  a  neighbouring  tavern.  On  his 
coming  home,  about  an  hour  after,  she  took  him  by  the  sleeve, 
and  leading  him  into  the  room  where  the  corpse  lay,  explained 
the  circumstances  which  had  led  to  the  bloody  act.  Mr  Mac- 
farlane said:  'Oh,  woman!  what  have  you  done?'  But  soon 
seeing  the  necessity  for  prompt  measures,  he  went  out  again  to 
consult  with  some  of  his  friends.  '  They  all  advised,'  says  the 
letter  just  quoted,  'that  he  should  convey  his  wife  away 
privately,  to  prevent  her  lying  in  jail,  till  a  precognition  should 
be  taken  of  the  affair,  and  it  should  appear  in  its  true  light. 
Accordingly  [about  six  o'clock],  she  walked  down  the  High 
Street,  followed  by  her  husband  at  a  little  distance,  and  now 
absconds. 

'  The  thing  continued  a  profound  secret  to  all  except  those 
concerned  in  the  house,  till  past  ten  at  night,  when  Mr  Mac- 
farlane, having  provided  a  safe  retreat  for  his  wife,  returned  and 
gave  orders  for  discovering  it  to.  the  magistrates,  who  went  and 
viewed  the  body  of  the  deceased,  and  secured  the  house  and 
maid,  and  all  else  who  may  become  evidence  of  the  fact.' 

Another  contemporary  says :  '  I  saw  his  [Cayley's]  corpse  after 
he  was  cereclothed,  and  saw  his  blood  where  he  lay  on  the  floor 
for  twenty-four  hours  after  he  died,  just  as  he  fell ;  so  it  was  a 
difficulty  to  straight  him.' 

*  The  pistols  belonged  to  Mr  Cayley  himself,  having  been  borrowed  a  few  daj-s  before 
by  Mr  Macfarlane. 


STORY   OF   MRS   MACFARLANE.  315 

A  careful  investigation  was  made  into  every  circumstance 
connected  with  this  fatal  affair,  but  without  demonstrating  any- 
thing except  the  passionate  rashness  or  magnanimity  of  the  fair 
homicide.  Mr  Macfarlane  was  discharged  upon  his  own  affir- 
mation that  he  knew  nothing  of  the  deed  till  after  it  had  taken 
place.  A  pamphlet  was  published  by  Mrs  Murray,  Mr  Cayley's 
landlady,  who  seems  to  have  kept  a  grocery  shop  in  the 
Cowgate,  vindicating  herself  from  the  imputation  which  Mrs 
Macfarlane's  tale  had  thrown  upon  her  character ;  but  to  this 
there  appeared  an  answer,  from  some  friend  of  the  other  party, 
in  which  the  imputation  was  fixed  almost  beyond  the  possibility 
of  doubt.  Mrs  Murray  denied  that  Mrs  Macfarlane  had  been 
in  her  house  on  the  Saturday  before  the  murder ;  but  evidence 
was  given  that  she  was  seen  issuing  from  the  close  in  which  Mrs 
Murray  resided,  and,  after  ascending  the  Back  Stairs,  was 
observed  passing  through  the  Parliament  Square  towards  her 
■own  house. 

It  will  surprise  every  one  to  learn  that  this  Scottish  Lucrece 
was  a  woman  of  only  nineteen  or  twenty  years  of  age,  and  some 
months  enceinte,  at  the  time  when  she  so  boldly  vindicated  her 
honour.  She  was  a  person  of  respectable  connections,  being  a 
daughter  of  Colonel  Charles  Straiton,  '  a  gentleman  of  great 
honour,'  says  one  of  the  letters  already  quoted,  and  who  further 
appears  to  have  been  intrusted  with  high  negotiations  by  the 
Jacobites  during  the  reign  of  Queen  Anne.  By  her  mother,  she 
was  grand-daughter  to  Sir  Andrew  Forrester. 

Of  the  future  history  of  Mrs  Macfarlane  we  have  but  one 
glimpse,  but  it  is  of  a  romantic  nature.  Margaret  Swinton,  who 
was  the  aunt  of  Sir  Walter  Scott's  mother,  and  round  whom  he 
and  his  boy-brothers  used  to  close,  to  listen  to  her  tales, 
remembered  being  one  Sunday  left  by  her  parents  at  home  in 
their  house  of  Swinton  in  Berwickshire,  while  the  rest  of  the 
family  attended  church.  Tiring  of  the  solitude  of  her  little 
nursery,  she  stole  quietly  down  stairs  to  the  parlour,  which  she 
entered  somewhat  abruptly.     There,  to  her  surprise,  she  beheld 

the  most  beautiful  woman  she  had  ever  seen,  sitting  at  the  break- 

u 


3l6  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

fast  table  making  tea.  She  believed  it  could  be  no  other  than 
one  of  those  enchanted  queens  whom  she  had  heard  of  in  fairy 
tales.  The  -  lady,  after  a  pause  of  surprise,  came  up  to  her  with 
a  sweet  smile,  and  conversed  with  her,  concluding  with  a  request 
that  she  would  speak  only  to  her  mamma  of  the  stranger  whom' 
she  had  seen.  Presently  after,  little  Margaret  having  turned 
her  back  for  a  few  moments,  the  beautiful  vision  had  vanished. 
The  whole  appeared  like  a  dream.  By  and  by  the  family 
returned,  and  Margaret  took  her  mother  aside,  that  she  might 
talk  of  this  wonderful  apparition.  Mrs  Swinton  applauded  her 
for  thus  observing  the  injunction  which  had  been  laid  upon  her. 
'  Had  you  not,'  she  added,  '  it  might  have  cost  that  lady  her 
life.'  Subsequent  explanations  made  Margaret  aware  that  she 
had  seen  the  unfortunate  Mrs  Macfarlane,  who,  having  some 
claim  of  kindred  upon  the  Swinton  family,  had  been  received  by 
them,  and  kept  in  a  secret  room,  till  such  time  as  she  could 
venture  to  make  her  way  out  of  the  country.  On  Margaret 
looking  away  for  a  moment,  the  lady  had  glided  by  a  sliding 
panel  into  her  Patmos  behind  the  wainscot,  and  thus  unwittingly 
increased  the  child's  apprehension  of  the  whole  being  an  event 
out  of  the  course  of  nature. 


THE    CANONGATE. 

Distinguished  Inhabitants  in  Former  Times — Story  of  a  Burning- 
Morocco's  Land — New  Street. 

The  Canongate,  which  takes  its  name  from  the  Augustine 
canons  of  Holyrood  (who  were  permitted  to  build  it  by  the 
charter  of  David  I.  in  1128,  and  afterwards  ruled  it  as  a  burgh 
of  regality),  was  formerly  the  court  end  of  the  town.  As  the 
main  avenue  from  the  palace  into  the  city,  it  has  borne  upon  its 
pavement  the  burden  of  all  that  was  beautiful,  all  that  was 
gallant,  all  that  has  become  historically  interesting  in  Scotland, 


THE   CANONGATE.  317 

for  the  last  six  or  seven  hundred  years.  It  still  presents  an 
antique  appearance,  although  many  of  the  houses  are  modern- 
ised. There  is  one  with  a  date  from  Queen  Mary's  reign,*  and 
many  may  be  guessed,  from  their  appearance,  to  be  of  even  an 
earlier  era.  Previously  to  the  Union,  when  the  palace  ceased 
to  be  occasionally  inhabited,  as  it  had  formerly  been,  by  at  least 
the  vicar  of  majesty,  in  the  person  of  the  Commissioner  to  the 
Parliament,  the  place  was  densely  inhabited  by  persons  of 
distinction.  Allan  Ramsay,  in  lamenting  the  death  of  Lucky 
Wood,  says  : 

'  Qh,  Canigate,  puir  elrich  hole, 
What  loss,  what  crosses  does  thou  thole  ! 
'  London  and  death  gars  thee  look  droll. 

And  hing  thy  head  ; 
Wow  but  thou  has  e'en  a  cauld  coal 
To  blaw  indeed ; ' 

and  mentions,  in  a  note,  that  this  place  was  'the  greatest 
sufferer  by  the  loss  of  our  members  of  parliament,  which 
London  now  enjoys,  many  of  them  having  had  their  houses 
there;'  a  fact ^ which  Maitland  confirms.  Innumerable  traces 
are  to  be  found,  in  old  songs  and  ballads,  of  the  elegant 
population  of  the  Canongate  in  a  former  day.  In  the  piteous 
tale  of  Marie  Hamilton — one  of  the  Queen's  Maries — occurs 
this  simple  but  picturesque  stanza : 

'  As  she  cam'  doun  the  Cannogait, 
The  Cannogait  sae  free, 
Mony  a  lady  looked  owre  her  window, 
Weeping  for  this  ladye.' 

An  old  popular  rhyme  expresses  the  hauteur  of  these  Canongate 
dames  towards  their  city  neighbours  of  the  male  sex : 

'  The  lasses  o'  the  Canongate, 

Oh  they  are  wondrous  nice  ; 
They  wnna  gi'e  a  single  kiss 
But  for  a  double  price. 

*  A  little  below  the  church. 


3l8  TRADITIONS   OF  EDINBURGH. 

Gar  hang  them,  gar  hang  them, 

Hich  upon  a  tree  ; 
For  we  '11  get  better  up  the  gate 

For  a  bawbee  ! ' 

Even  in  times  comparatively  modern,  this  faubourg  was 
inhabited  by  persons  of  very  great  consideration.*  Within  the 
memory  of  a  lady  living  in  1830,  it  used  to  be  a  common  thing 
to  hear,  among  other  matters  of  gossip,  '  that  there  was  tp  be  a 
braw fiitting\  in  the  Ca?iotigate  to-morrow ;''  and  parties  of  yOung 
people  were  made  up,  to  go  and  see  the  fine  furniture  brought 
out,  sitting  perhaps  for  hours  in  the  windows  of  some  friend  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  street,  while  cart  after  cart  was  laden 
with  magnificence.  J     Many  of  the  houses  to  this  day  are  fit  for 

*  Subjoined  is  a  list  of  persons  of  note  who  lived  in  the  Canongate  in  the  early  days  of 
•the  late  Mr  Chalmers  Izett,  whose  memory  extended  back  to  1769  : 


'  DUKES. 

COUNTESSES. 

BARONETS. 

EMINENT  MEN. 

■Hamilton. 

Tweeddale. 

Sir  J.  Grant. 

Adam  Smith. 

■Queensberry. 

Lothian. 

Sir  J.  Suttie. 

Dr  Young. 

Sir  J.  Whiteford. 

Dugald  Stewart. 

EARLS. 

LORDS. 

Sir  J.  Stewart. 

Dr  Gardner. 

Breadalbane. 

Haddo. 

Sir  J.  Stirling. 

Dr  Gregory. 

Hyndford. 

Colvill. 

Sir  J.  Sinclair,  Glorat. 

Wemyss. 

Blantyre. 

Sir  J.  Halkett. 

BANK. 

Balcarras. 

Nairn. 

Sir  James  Stirling. 

Douglas,  Heron,  and 

Moray. 

Semple. 

Sir  D.  Hay. 

Company. 

Dalhousie. 

A.  Gordon. 

Sir  B.  Dunbar. 

Haddington. 

Cranstoun. 

Sir  J.  Scott,  Ancrum. 

ladies'  BOARDING- 

Mar. 

Sir  R.  Anstruther. 

SCHOOL. 

Strathmore. 

L.  OF  SESSION. 

Sir  J.  Sinclair,  Ulbster. 

Mrs  Hamilton, 

Traquair. 

Eskgrove. 

Chessels's  Court, 

Selkirk. 

Hailes. 

Dundonald, 

Prestongrange. 

COMMANDERS-IN-CHIEF, 

PRINOPAL  INNS. 

Kintore. 

Karnes. 

General  Oughton. 

Ramsay's,  St  Mary's 

Dunmore. 

Milton. 

General  Skene. 

Wynd. 

Seafield. 

Montgomery. 

Lord  A.  Gordon. 

Boyd's,      Head      of 

Panmure. 

Bannatyne. 

Lord  Moira. 

Canongate. 

'  Two  coaches  went  down  the  Canongate  to  Leith — one  hour  in  going,  and  one  hour  in 
returning.' 

t  Removal. 

i  '  At  a  former  period,  when  the  Canongate  of  Edinburgh  was  a  more  fashionable 
residence  than  at  present,  a  lady  of  rank  who  lived  in  one  of  the  closes,  before  going  out  to 
an  evening-party,  and  at  a  time  when  hairdressers  and  peruke-makers  were  much  in  demand, 
requested  a  servant  (newly  come  home)  to  tell  Tam  Tough  the  hairdresser  to  come  to  her 
immediately.  The  servant  departed  in  quest  of  Puff,  but  had  scarcely  reached  the  street, 
before  she  forgot  the  barber's  name.     Meeting  with  a  caddy,  she  asked  him  if  he  knev/ 


STORY  OF  A  BURNING.  319 

the  residence  of  a  first-rate  family  in  every  respect  but  vicinage 
and  access.  The  last  grand  blow  was  given  to  the  place  by  the 
opening  of  the  road  along  the  Calton  Hill  in  181 7,  which 
rendered  it  no  longer  the  avenue  of  approach  to  the  city  from 
the  east.  Instead  of  profiting  by  the  comparative  retirement 
which  it  acquired  on  that  occasion,  it  seemed  to  become  the 
more  wretchedly  squalid,  from  its  being  the  less  under  notice — 
as  a  gentleman  dresses  the  least  cairefuUy  when  not  expecting 
visitors.  It  is  now  a  secluded,  and,  in  general,  meanly  inhabited 
suburb,  only  accessible  by  ways  which,  however  lightly  our 
fathers  and  grandfathers  might  regard  them,  are  hardly  now 
pervious  to  a  lady  or  gentleman  without  shocking  more  of  the 
senses  than  one,  besides  the  difficulty  of  steering  one's  way 
through  the  herds  of  the  idle  and  the  wretched  who  encumber 
the  street.    " 

One  of  the  houses  near  the  head  of  the  Canongate,  on  the 
north  side  of  the  street,  was  indicated  to  me  by  an  old  lady  a 
few  years  ago  as  that  which  tradition  in  her  young  days  pointed 
to  in  connection  with  a  wild  story  related  in  the  notes  to 
Rokehy,  She  had  often  heard  the  tale  told,  nearly  in  the  same 
manner  as  it  has  been  given  by  Scott,  and  the  site  of  the  house 
concerned  in  the  tragedy  was  pointed  out  to  her  by  her  seniors. 
Perhaps  the  reader  will  again  excuse  a  quotation  from  the 
writings  of  our  late  gifted  fellow-townsman :  if  to  be  related  at 
all — and  surely,  in  a  work  devoted  to  Edinburgh  popular  legends, 
it  could  not  rightly  be  overlooked — it  may  as  well  be  given  in 
the  language  of  the  prince  of  modem  conteurs : 

'About  the  beginning  of  the  eighteenth  century,  when  the 
large  castles  of  the  Scottish  nobles,  and  even  the  secluded 
hotels,  like  those  of  the  French  noblesse,  which  they  possessed 
in  Edinburgh,  were  sometimes  the  scenes  of  strange  and 
mysterious  transactions,  a  divine  of  singular  sanctity  was  called 

where  the  hairdresser  lived.  "Whatna  hairdresser  is't?"  replied  the  caddy.  "I  ha'e 
forgot  his  name,"  answered  she.  "What  kind  o'  name  wus't?"  responded  Donald.  "As 
near  as  I  can  mind,"  said  the  girl,  "  it  was  a  name  that  wad  neither  rug  nor  rive."  "  The 
deil's  in 't,"  answered  Donald,  "but  that's  a  tam'd  tough  name."  "Thank  ye,  Donald, 
that  'sthe  man's  name  I  wanted — Tam  Tough." ' — [From  art  Edinburgh,  NewsJia^erJ] 


320  TRADITIONS  OF   EDINBURGH. 

up  at  midnight  to  pray  with  a  person  at  the  point  of  death. 
This  was  no  unusual  summons;  but  what  followed  was  alarming. 
He  was  put  into  a  sedan-chair,  and  after  he  had  been  transported 
to  a  remote  part  of  the  town,  the  bearers  insisted  upon  his 
being  blindfolded.  The  request  was  enforced  by  a  cocked 
pistol,  and  submitted  to ;  but  in  the  course  of  the  discussion, 
he  conjectured,  from  the  phrases  employed  by  the  chairmen, 
and  from  some  part  of  their  dress,  not  completely  concealed  by 
their  cloaks,  that  they  were  greatly  above  the  menial  station 
they  had  assumed.  After  many  turns  and  windings,  the  chair 
was  carried  up-stairs  into  a  lodging,  where  his  eyes  were  un- 
covered, and  he  was  introduced  into  a  bedroom,  where  he  found 
a  lady,  newly  delivered  of  an  infant.  He  was  commanded  by 
his  attendants  to  say  such  prayers  by  her  bedside  as  were  fitting 
for  a  person  not  expected  to  survive  a  mortal  disorder.  He 
ventured  to  remonstrate,  and  observe  that  her  safe  delivery 
warranted  better  hopes.  But  he  was  sternly  commanded  to 
obey  the  orders  first  given,  and  with  difficulty  recollected  himself 
sufficiently  to  acquit  himself  of  the  task  imposed  on  him.  He 
was  then  again  hurried  into  the  chair ;  but  as  they  conducted 
him  down-stairs,  he  heard  the  report  of  a  pistol.  He  was  safely 
conducted  home ;  a  purse  of  gold  was  forced  upon  him ;  but  he 
was  warned,  at  the  same  time,  that  the  least  allusion  to  this  dark 
transaction  would  cost  him  his  life.  He  betook  himself  to  rest, 
and  after  long  and  broken  musing,  fell  into  a  deep  sleep.  From 
this  he  was  awakened  by  his  servant,  with  the  dismal  news  that 

a  fire  of  uncommon  fury  had  broken  out  in  the  house  of , 

near  the  head  of  the  Canongate,  and  that  it  was  totally  con- 
sumed ;  with  the  shocking  addition,  that  the  daughter  of  the 
proprietor,  a  young  lady  eminent  for  beauty  and  accomplishments, 
had  perished  in  the  flames.  The  clergyman  had  his  suspicions, 
but  to  have  made  them  public  would  have  availed  nothing.  He 
was  timid;  the  family  was  of  the  first  distinction  J  above  all, 
the  deed  was  done,  and  could  not  be  amended.  Time  wore 
away,  however,  and  with  it  his  terrors.  He  became  unhappy 
at  being  the  solitary  depositary  of  this  fearful  mystery,  and 


MOROCCOS    LAND.  321 

mentioned  it  to  some  of  his  brethren,  through  whom  the 
anecdote  acquired  a  sort  of  pubHcity.  The  divine,  however, 
had  been  long  dead,  and  the  story  in  some  degree  forgotten, 
when  a  fire  broke  out  again  on  the  very  same  spot  where  the 

house  of had  formerly  stood,  and  which  was  now  occupied 

by  buildings  of  an  inferior  description.  When  the  flames  were 
at  their  height,  the  tumult,  which  usually  attends  such  a  scene, 
was  suddenly  suspended  by  an  unexpected  apparition,  A 
beautiful  female,  in  a  night-dress,  extremely  rich,  but  at  least 
half  a  century  old,  appeared  in  the  very  midst  of  the  fire,  and 
uttered  these  tremendous  words  in  her  vernacular  idiom :  "  Anes 
burned,  twice  burned ;  the  third  time  I  '11  scare  you  all ! "  The 
belief  in  this  story  was  formerly  so  strong,  that  on  a  fire  breaking 
out,  and  seeming  to  approach  the  fatal  spot,  there  was  a  good 
deal  of  anxiety  testified,  lest  the  apparition  should  make  good 
her  denunciation.' 

A  little  way  farther  down  the  Canongate,  on  the  same  side,  is 
an  old-fashioned  house  called  Morocco's  Lmid,  having  an  alley 
passing  under  it,  over  which  is  this  inscription — a  strange  cry  of 
the  spirit  of  man  to  be  heard  in  a  street : 

MISERERE   MEI,  DOMINE  :  A  PECCATO,  PROBRO, 
DEBITO,  ET  MORTE  SUBITA,  LIBERA  ME. 

From  whom  this  exclamation  proceeded  I  have  never  learned ; 
but  the  house,  which  is  of  more  modern  date  than  the  legend, 
has  a  story  connected  with  it.  It  is  said  that  a  young  woman 
belonging  to  Edinburgh,  having  been  taken  upon  a  voyage  by 
an  African  rover,  was  sold  to  the  harem  of  the  Emperor  of 
Morocco,  with  whom  she  became  a  favourite.  Mindful,  like  her 
countrymen  in  general,  of  her  native  land  and  her  relations,  she 
held  such  a  correspondence  with  home,  as  led  to  a  brother  of 
hers  entering  into  merchandise,  and  conducting  commercial 
transactions  with  Morocco.  He  was  successful,  and  realised  a 
little  fortune,  out  of  which  he  built  this  stately  mansion.  From 
gratitude,  or  out  of  a  feeling  of  vanity  regarding  his  imperial 
brother-in-law,  he  erected  a  statue  of  that  personage  in  front  of 
his  house— a  black,  naked  figure,  with  a  turban  and  a  necklace 


322  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

of  beads ;  such  being  the  notion  which  a  Scottish  artist  of  those 
days  entertained  of  the  personal  aspect  of  the  chief  of  one  of  the 
Mohammedan  states  of  Africa.  And  this  figure,  perched  in  a 
little  stone  pulpit,  still  exists.  As  to  the  name  bestowed  upon  the 
house,  it  would  most  probably  arise  from  the  man  being  m  the 
first  place  called  Morocco  by  way  of  sobriquet,  as  is  common 
when  any  one  becomes  possessed  by  a  particular  subject,  and 
often  speaks  of  it. 

A  little  farther  along  is  the  opening  of  New  Street,  a  modern 
offshoot  of  the  ancient  city,  dating  from  a  time  immediately 
before  the  rise  of  the  New  Town.  Many  persons  of  consequence 
lived  here  :  Lord  Kames  in  a  neat  house  at  the  top,  on  the  east 
side — an  edifice  oftce  thought  so  fine,  that  people  used  to  bring 
their  country  cousins  to  see  it ;  Lord  Hailes,  in  a  house  more 
than  half-way  down,  afterwards  occupied  by  Mr  Ruthven, 
mechanist ;  Sir  Philip  Ainslie  in  another  house  in  the  same  row. 
The  passers-by  were  often  arrested  by  the  sight  of  Sir  Philip's 
preparations  for  a  dinner-party  through  the  open  windows,  the 
show  of  plate  being  particularly  great.  Now,  all  these  mansions 
are  left  to  become  workshops.  Sic  transit.  Opposite  to  Kames's 
house  is  a  small  circular  arrangement  of  causeway,  indicating 
where  St  John's  Cross  formerly  stood.  Charles  I.,  at  his 
ceremonial  entry  into  Edinburgh  in  1633,  knighted  the  provost 
at  St  John's  Cross. 


ST    JOHN    STREET. 

Lord  Monboddo's  Suppers— The  Sister  of  Smollett— Anecdote  of 
Henry  Dundas. 

St  John  Street,  so  named  with  reference  to  St  John's  Cross 
above  mentioned,  was  one  of  the  heralds  of  the  New  Town- 
In  the  latter  half  of  the  last  century,  it  was  occupied  solely  by 
persons  of  distinction — nobles,  judges,  and  country  gentlemen ; 


THE   SISTER   OF   SMOLLETT.  323 

now,  it  is  possessed  as  exclusively  by  persons  of  the  middle 
Tank.  In  No.  13  lived  that  eccentric  genius,  Lord  Monboddo, 
'whose  'supper-parties,  conducted  in  classic  taste,  frequented  by 
the  literati,  and  for  a  time  presided  over  by  an  angel  in  the 
form  of  a  daughter  of  his  lordship,  were  of  immense  attraction 
in  their  day.  In  a  stair  at  the  head  of  this  street  lived  the 
sister  of  the  author  of  Roderick  Random. 

Smollett's  life  as  a  literary  adventurer  in  London,  and  the  full 
participation  he  had  in  the  woes  of  authors  by  profession,  have 
perhaps  conveyed  an  erroneous  idea  of  his  birth  and  connections. 
The  SmoUetts  of  Dumbartonshire  were  in  reality  what  was  called 
in  Scotland  a  good  old  family.  The  novelist's  own  grandfather 
had  been  one  of  the  commissioners  for  the  union  between 
England  and  Scotland.  And  it  is  an  undoubted  fact,  that 
Tobias  himself,  if  he  had  lived  two  or  three  years  longer,  would 
have  become  the  owner  of  the  family  estate,  worth  about  a 
thousand  a  year.  All  this,  to  any  one  conversant  with  the 
condition  of  the  Scottish  gentry  in  the  early  part  of  the  last 
century,  will  appear  quite  consistent  with  his  having  been 
brought  up  as  a  druggist's  apprentice  in  Glasgow — '  the  bubbly- 
nosed  callant,  wi'  the  stane  in  his  pouch,'  as  his  master  affection- 
ately described  him,  with  reference  to  his  notorious  qualities  as 
a  Pickle. 

The  sister  of  Smollett — she  who,  failing  him,  did  succeed  to 
the  family  property — was  a  Mrs  Telfer,  domiciled  as  a  gentle 
widow  in  a  common  stair  at  the  head  of  St  John  Street  (west 
side),  first  door  up.  She  is  described  as  a  somewhat  stem- 
looking  specimen  of  her  sex,  with  a  high  cast  of  features,  but  in 
reality  a  good-enough-natured  woman,  and  extremely  shrewd 
and  intelligent.  One  passion  of  her  genus  possessed  her — 
Whist  A  relative  tells  me  that  one  of  the  city  magistrates, 
who  was  a  tallow-chandler,  calling  upon  her  one  evening,  she 
said  :  '  Come  awa,  bailie,  and  take  a  trick  at  the  cartes.' 

'  Troth,  ma'am,'  said  he,  '  I  hav'na  a  bawbee  in  my  pouch.' 

'  Tut,  man,  ne'er  mind  that,'  replied  the  lady ;  '  let 's  e'en  play 
for  a  pund  o'  candles  !' 


324  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

During  his  last  visit  to  Edinburgh  (1766) — the  visit  which 
occasioned  Humphry  Clinker — Smollett  lived  in  his  sister's 
house.  A  person  who  recollects  seeing  him  there,  describes 
him  as  dressed  in  black  clothes,  tall,  and  extremely  handsome, 
but  quite  unlike  the  portraits  at  the  front  of  his  works,  all  of 
which  are  disclaimed  by  his  relations.  The  unfortunate  truth 
appears  to  be,  that  the  world  is  in  possession  of  no  genuine 
likeness  of  Smollett !  He  was  very  peevish,  on  account  of  the 
ill  health  to  which  he  had  been  so  long  a  martyr,  and  used  to 
complain  much  of  a  severe  ulcerous  disorder  in  his  arm. 

His  wife,  according  to  the  same  authority,  was  a  Creole,  with 
a  dark  complexion,  though,  upon  the  whole,  rather  pretty — a 
fine  lady,  but  a  silly  woman.  Yet  she  had  been  the  Narcissa  of 
Roderick  Random.^ 

In  Humphry  Clinker,  Smollett  works  up  many  observations 
of  things  and  persons  which  he  had  made  in  his  recent  visit  to 
Scotland.  His  relative.  Commissary  Smollett,  and  the  family 
seat  near  Loch  Lomond,  receive  ample  notice.  The  story  in 
the  family  is,  that  while  Matthew  Bramble  was  undoubtedly 
himself,  he  meant,  in  the  gay  and  sprightly  Jerry  Melford,  to 
describe  his  sister's  son,  Major  Telfer,  and  in  Liddy  to  depict 
his  own  daughter,  who  was  destined  to  be  the  wife  of  the  Major, 
but,  to  the  inexpressible  and  ineffaceable  grief  of  her  father, 
died  before  the  scheme  could  be  accomplished.  Jerry,  it  will 
be  recollected,  *  got  some  damage  from  the  bright  eyes  of  the 
charming  Miss  R- — n,  whom  he  had  the  honour  to  dance  with 
at  the  ball ;'  Liddy  contracted  an  intimate  friendship  with  the 
sanie  person.  This  young  beauty  was  Eleonora  Renton,  charm- 
ing by  the  true  right  divine,  for  she  was  daughter  of  Mr  Renton 
of  Lamerton,  by  Lady  Susan  Montgomery,  one  of  the  fair  off- 
shoots of  the  house  of  Eglintoune,  described  in  a  preceding 
article.      A  sister  of  hers  was  married  to   Smollett's    eldest 

*  Strap,  in  Roderick  Random,  was  supposed  to  represent  one  Hutchinson,  a  barber 
near  Dunbar.  The  man  encouraged  the  idea  as  much  as  possible.  When  Mr  Hastings 
(governor^  of  India)  and  his  wife  visited  Scotland,  they  sent  for  this  man,  and  were  so 
pleased  with  him,  that  Mr  Hastings  afterwards  sent  him  a  couple  of  razors,  mounted  in  gold, 
from  London. 


ANECDOTE  OF  HENRY  DUNDAS.  325 

nephew,  Telfer,  who  became  inheritor  of  the  family  estate, 
and,  on  account  of  it,  took  the  surname  of  Smollett :  a  large 
modern  village  in  Dumbartonshire  takes  its  name  from  this  lady. 
It  seems  to  have  been  this  connection  which  brought  the 
charming  Eleonora  under  the  novelist's  attention.  She  after- 
wards married  Charles  Sharpe  of  Hoddam,  and  became  the 
mother  of  Charles  Kirkpatrick  Sharpe,  the  well-known  antiquary. 
Strange  to  say,  the  lady  whose  bright  eyes  had  flamed  upon 
poor  Smollett's  soul  in  the  middle  of  the  last  century,  was  living 
so  lately  as  1836. 

When  Smollett  was  confined'  in  the  King's  Bench  Prison  for 
the  libel  upon  Admiral  Knowles,  he  formed  an  intimacy  with 
the  celebrated  Tenducci.  This  melodious  singing-bird  had 
recently  got  his  wings  clipped  by  his  creditors,  and  was  mewed 
up  in  the  same  cage  with  the  novelist.  Smollett's  friendship 
proceeded  to  such  a  height,  that  he  paid  the  vocalist's  debts 
from  his  own  purse,  and  procured  him  his  liberty.  Tenducci 
afterwards  visited  Scotland,  and  was  one  night  singing  in  a 
private  circle,  when  somebody  told  him  that  a  lady  present  was 
a  near  relation  of  his  benefactor;  upon  which  the  grateful 
Italian  prostrated  himself  before  her,  kissed  her  hands,  and 
acted  so  many  fantastic  extravagances,  after  the  foreign  fashion, 
that  she  was  put  extremely  out  of  countenance. 

On  the  west  side  of  the  street,  immediately  to  the  south  of 
the  Canongate  Kilwinning  Mason  Lodge,  there  is  a  neat  self- 
contained  house  of  old  fashion,  with   a  flower-plot  in   front. 

This  was  the  residence  of Anderson,  merchant  in  Leith, 

the  father  of  seven  sons,  all  of  whom  attained  respectable 
situations  in  life  :  one  was  the  late  Mr  Samuel  Anderson  of  St 
Gennains,  banker.  They  had  been  at  school  with  Mr  Henry 
Dundas  (afterwards  Lord  Melville) ;  and  when  he  had  risen  to 
high  office,  he  called  one  day  on  Mr  Anderson,  and  expressed 
his  earnest  wish  to  have  the  pleasure  of  dining  with  his  seven 
school  companions,  all  of  whom  happened  at  that  time  to  be  at 
home.  The  meeting  took  place  at  Mr  Dundas's,  and  it  was  a 
happy  one,  particularly  to  the  host,  who,  when  the  hour  of 


326  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

parting  arrived,  filled  a  bumper  in  high  elation  to  their  healths, 
and  mentioned  that  they  were  the  only  men  who  had  ever  dined 
with  him  since  he  became  a  public  servant,  who  had  not  asked 
some  favour  either  for  themselves  or  their  friends. 

The  house  adjoining  to  the  one  last  mentioned — ^having  its 
gable  to  the  street,  and  a  garden  to  the  south — ^was,  about 
1780,  the  residence  of  the  Earl  of  Wemyss.  A  Lady  Betty 
Charteris,  of  this  family,  occupied  the  one  furthest  to  the  south 
on  that  side  of  the  street.  She  was  a  person  of  romantic 
history,  for,  being  thwarted  in  an  affair  of  the  heart,  she  lay  in 
bed  for  twenty-six  years,  till  dismissed  to  the  world  where  such 
troubles, are  unknown. 


MORAY    HOUSE. 

In  the  Canongate  there  is  a  house  which  has  had  the  fortune  to 
be  connected  with  more  than  one  of  the  most  interesting  points 
in  our  history.  It  is  usually  styled  Moray  House,  being  the 
entailed  property  of  the  noble  family  of  Moray.  The  large 
proportions  and  elegant  appearance  of  this  mansion  distinguish 
it  from  all  the  surrounding  buildings,  and  in  the  reai'  (1847) 
there  is  a  fine  garden,  descending  in  the  old  fashion  by  a  series 
of  terraces.  Though  long  deserted  by  the  Earls  of  Moray,  it 
has  been,  till  a  recent  time,  kept  in  the  best  order,  being 
occupied  by  families  of  respectable  character. 

This  house  was  built  in  the  early  part  of  the  reign  of  Charles 
I.  (about  1628)  by  Mary,  Countess  of  Home,  then  a  widow. 
Her  ladyship's  initials,  M.  H.,  appear,  in  cipher  fashion,  under- 
neath her  coronet  upon  various  parts  of  the  exterior ;  and  over 
one  of  the  principal  windows  towards  the  street  there  is  a 
lozenge  shield,  containing  the  two  lions  rampant  which  form  the 
coat  armorial  of  the  Home  family.  Lady  Home  was  an  English 
lady,  being  the  daughter  of  Edward  Sutton,  Lord  Dudley.     She 


MORAY   HOUSE. 


327 


seems  to  have  been  unusually  wealthy  for  the  dowager  of  a 
Scottish  earl,  for,  in  1644,  the  English  parliament  repaid  seventy 
thousand  pounds  which  she  had  lent  to  the  Scottish  Covenanting 
government ;  and  she  is  found  in  the  same  year  lending  seven 
thousand  to  aid  in  paying  the  detachment  of  troops  which  that 
government  had  sent  to  Ireland.  She  was  also  a  sufferer,  how- 
ever, by  the  civil  war,  in  as  far  as  Dunglass  House,  which  was 


Moray  House. 


blown  up  in  1640,  by  accident,  when  in  the  hands  of  the 
Covenanters,  belonged  to  her  in  liferent.  To  her  affluent 
circumstances,  and  the  taste  which  she  probably  brought  with 
her  from  her  native  country,  may  be  ascribed  the  superior  style 
of  this  mansion,  which  not  only  displays  in  the  outside  many 
traces  of  the  elegant  architecture  which  prevailed  in  England  in 
the  reign  of  James  I.,  but  contains  two  state  apartments, 
decorated  in  the  most  elaborate  manner,  both  in  the  walls 
and  ceilings,  with  the  favourite  stucco-work  of  that  reign.  On 
the  death  of  Lady  Home,  the  house  passed  (her  ladyship  having 


328  TRADITIONS   OF  EDINBURGH. 

no  surviving  male  issue)  to  her  daughters  and  co-heiresses, 
Margaret,  Countess  of  Moray,  and  Anne,  Countess  (afterwards 
Duchess)  of  Lauderdale,  between  whom  the  entire  property 
of  their  father,  the  first  Earl  of  Home,  appears  to  have  been 
divided,  his  title  going  into  another  line.  By  an  arrangement 
between  the  two  sisters,  the  house  became,  in  1645,  the 
property  of  the  Countess  of  Moray  and  her  son  James,  Lord 
Doune, 

It  stood  in  this  condition  as  to  ownership,  though  still 
popularly  called  '  Lady  Home's  Lodging,'  when,  in  the  summer 
of  1648,  Oliver  Cromwell  paid  his  first  visit  to  Edinburgh.  . 
Cromwell  had  then  just  completed  the  overthrow  of  the  army 
of  the  Engagement — a  gallant  body  of  troops  which  had  been 
sent  into  England  by  the  more  Cavalier  party  of  the  Scottish 
Covenanters,  in  the  hope  of  rescuing  the  king  from  the  hands 
of  the  sectaries.  The  victorious  general,  with  his  companion 
Lambert,  took  up  his  quarters  in  this  house,  and  here  received 
the  visits  of  some  of  the  leaders  of  the  less  loyal  party  of  the 
Covenanters — the  Marquis  of  Argyll,  the  Chancellor  Loudoun, 
the  Earl  of  Lothian,  the  Lords  Arbuthnot,  Elcho,  and  Burleigh, 
and  the  Reverend  Messrs  David  Dickson,  Robert  Blair,  and 
James  Guthrie.  'What  passed  among  them,'  says  Bishop  Henry 
Guthrie  in  his  Memoirs,  '  came  not  to  be  known  infallibly ;  but 
it  was  talked  very  loud  that  he  did  communicate  to  them  his 
design  in  reference  to  the  king,  and  had  their  assent  thereto.' 
It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  remark  that  this  was  probably  no 
more  than  a  piece  of  Cavalier  scandal,  for  there  is  no  reason  to 
believe  that  Cromwell,  if  he  yet  contemplated  the  death  of  the 
king,  would  have  disclosed  his  views  to  men  still  so  far  tinctured 
with  loyalty  as  those  enumerated.  Cromwell's  object  in  visiting 
Edinburgh  on  this  occasion,  and  in  holding  these  conferences, 
was  probably  limited  to  the  reinstatement  of  the  ultra-Presby- 
terian party  in  the  government,  from  which  the  Duke  of  Hamilton 
and  other  loyalists  had  lately  displaced  it. 

When,  in  1650,  the  Lord  Lorn,  eldest  son  of  the  Marquis  of 
Argyll,  was  married  to  Lady  Mary  Stuart,  eldest  daughter  of  the 


MORAY   HOUSE.  329 

Earl  of  Moray,  the  wedding  feast  'stood,'  as  contemporary 
writers  express  it,  at  the  Earl  of  Moray's  house  in  the  Canongate. 
The  event  so  auspicious  to  these  great  families  was  signahsed 
by  a  circumstance  of  a  very  remarkable  kind.  A  whole  week 
had  been  passed  in  festivity  by  the  wedded  pair  and  their 
relations,  when,  on  Saturday  the  i8th  of  May,  the  Marquis  of 
Montrose  was  brought  to  Edinburgh,  an  excom,municated  and 
already  condemned  captive,  having  been  taken  in  the  north  in 
an  unsuccessful  attempt  to  raise  a  Cavalier  party  for  his  young 
and  exiled  prince.  When  the  former  relative  circumstances  of 
Argyll  and  Montrose  are  called  to  mind — when  it  is  recollected 
that  they  had  some  years  before  struggled  for  an  ascendency  in 
the  civil  affairs  of  Scotland,  that  Montrose  had  afterwards  chased 
Argyll  round  and  round  the  Highlands,  burned  and  plundered 
his  country  undisturbed,  and  on  one  occasion  overthrown  his 
forces  in  a  sanguinary  action,  while  Argyll  looked  on  from  a  safe 
distance  at  sea — the  present  relative  circumstances  of  the  two 
chiefs  become  a  striking  illustration  of  the  vicissitudes  in 
personal  fortune  that  characterise  a  time  of  civil  commotion. 
Montrose,  after  riding  from  Leith  on  a  sorry  horse,  was  led  into 
the  Canongate  by  the  Watergate,  and  there  placed  upon  a  low 
cart,  driven  by  the  common  executioner.  In  this  ignominious 
fashion  he  was  conducted  up  the  street  towards  the  prison,  in  , 
which  he  was  to  have  only  two  days  to  live ;  and  in  passing 
along,  was  necessarily  brought  under  the  walls  and  windows  of 
Moray  House.  On  his  approach  to  that  mansion,  the  Marquis 
of  Argyll,  his  lady,  and  children,  together  with  the  whole  of  the 
marriage  party,  left  their  banqueting,  and  stepping  out  to  a 
balcony  which  overhangs  the  street,  there  planted  themselves  to 
gaze  on  the  prostrated  enemy  of  their  house  and  cause.  Here, 
indeed,  they  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  Montrose  in  all  external 
circumstances  reduced  beneath  their  feet;  but  they  had  not 
calculated  on  the  strength  of  nature  which  enabled  that  extra- 
ordinary man  to  overcome  so  much  of  the  bitterness  of  humilia- 
tion and  of  death.  He  is  said  to  have  gazed  upon  them  with 
so  much  serenity,  that  they  shrank  back  with  some  degree  of 


330  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

discomposure,  though  not  till  the  marchioness  had  expressed 
her  spite  at  the  fallen  hero  by  spitting  at  him — an  act  which,  in 
the  present  age,  will  scarcely  be  credible,  tliough  any  one  well 
acquainted  with  the  history  of  the  seventeenth  century  will  have 
too  little  reason  to  doubt  it. 

In  a  Latin  manuscript  of  this  period,  the  gardens  connected 
with  the  house  of  the  Earl  of  Moray  are  spoken  of  as  '  of  such 
elegance,  and  cultivated  with  so  much  care,  as  to  vie  ■svith  those 
of  warmer  countries,  and  perhaps  even  of  Ji^ngland  itself  And 
here,'  pursues  the  writer,  '  you  may  see  how  much  the  art  and 
industry  of  man  may  avail  in  supplying  the  defects  of  nature. 
Scarcely  any  one  would  believe  it  possible  to  give  so  much 
beauty  to  a  garden  in  this  frigid  clime.'  One  reason  for  the 
excellence  of  the  garden  may  have  been  its  southern  exposure. 
On  the  uppermost  of  its  terraces  there  is  a  large  and  beautiful  - 
thorn,  with  pensile  leaves ;  on  the  second  there  are  some  fruit- 
trees,  the  branches  of  which  have  been  caused  to  spread  out  in 
a  particular  way,  so  as  to  form  a  kind  of  cup,  possibly  for  the 
reception  of  a  pleasure-party,  for  such  fantastic  twistings  of 
nature  were  not  uncommon  among  our  ancestors.  In  the 
lowest  level  of  the  garden  there  is  a  little  receptacle  for  water, 
beside  which  is  the  statue  of  a  fishing-boy,  having  a  basket  of 
fish  at  his  feet,  and  a  clai7i-shell  inverted  upon  his  head.  Here 
is  also  a  small  building,  surmounted  by  two  lions  holding  female 
shields,  and  which  may  therefore  be  supposed  contemporaneous 
with  the  house :  this  was  formerly  a  summer-house,  but  has 
latterly  been  expanded  into  the  character  of  a  conservatory. 
Tradition  vaguely  reports  it  as  the  place  where  the  Union 
between  England  and  Scotland  was  signed;  though  there  is 
also  a  popular  stor^'  of  that  fact  having  been  accomplished  in  a 
laigh  shop  of  the  High  Street  (marked  No.  117),  at  one  time  a 
tavern,  and  known  as  the  Union  Cellar.  Probably,  the  rumour, 
in  at  least  the  first  instance,  refers  only  to  private  arrangements 
connected  with  the  passing  of  the  celebrated  statute  in  question. 
The  Chancellor  Earl  of  Seafield  inhabited  Moray  House  at  that 
time  on  lease,  and  nothing  could  be  more  likely  than  that  he 


MORAY  HOUSE.  33 1 

should  there  have  after-dinner  consultations  on  the  pending 
measure,  which  might,  in  the  evening,  be  adjourned  to  this 
garden  retreat. 

It  would  appeat  that,  about  this  period,  the  garden  attached 
to  the  house  was  a  sort  of  public  promenade  or  lounging-place ; 
as  was  also  the  garden  connected  with  Heriot's  Hospital.  In 
this  character  it  forms  a  scene  in  the  licentious  play  called  The 
Asse?nbly,  written  in  1692  by  Dr  Pitcairn.  Will,  'a  discreet 
smart  gentleman,'  as  he  is  termed  in  the  prefixed  list  of  dramatis 
personcB,  but  in  reality  a  perfect  debauchee,  first  makes  an 
appointment  with  Violetta,  his  mistress,  to  meet  her  in  this 
place ;  and  as  she  is  under  the  charge  of  a  sourly-devout  aunt, 
he  has  to  propound  the  matter  in  metaphorical  language. 
Pretending  to  expound  a  particular  passage  in  the  Song  of 
Solomon,  for  the  benefit  of  the  dame,  he  thus  gives  the  hint  to 
her  young  protegee. 

'  Will.  "  Come,  my  beloved,  let  us  walk  in  the  fields,  let  us 
lodge  in  the  villages."  The  same  metaphor  still.  The  kirk 
not  having  the  liberty  of  bringing  her  servant  to  her  mother's 
house,  resolveth  to  meet  him  in  the  villages,  such  as  the  Canon- 
gate,  in  respect  of  Edinburgh;  and  the  vineyard,  such  as  my 
Lady  Murray's  Yards,  to  use  a  homely  comparison. 

*  Old  Lady.  A  wondrous  young  man  this  ! 

*  -    *  *  * 

*  Will.  The  eighth  chapter  towards  the  close :  "  Thou  that 
dwellest  in  the  gardens,  cause  me  to  hear  thy  voice." 

*  Violetta.  That 's  still  alluding  to  the  metaphor  of  a  gallant, 
who,  by  some  signs,  warns  his  mistress  to  make  haste — a  whistle 
or  so.  The  same  with  early  in  the  former  chapter ;  that  is  to 
say,  to-morrow  by  six  o'clock.  Make  haste  to  accomplish  our 
loves. 

*  Old  L.  Thou  art  a  hopeful  girl ;  I  hope  God  has  blest  my 
pains  on  thee.' 

In  terms  of  this  curious  assignation,  the  third  act  opens  in  a 
walk  in  Lady  Murray's  Yards,  where  Will  meets  his  beloved 
Violetta.      After  a  great   deal   of  badinage,   in   the   style   of 


332  TRADITIONS   OF  EDINBURGH. 

Dryden's  comedies,  which  were  probably  Dr  Pitcaim's  favourite 
models,  the  dialogue  proceeds  in  the  following  style : 

'  Will.  I  '11  marry  you  at  the  rights,  if  you  can  find  in  your 
heart  to  give  yourself  to  an  honest  fellow  of  no  great  fortune. 

*  Vio.  In  truth,  sir,  methinks  it  Were  fully  as  much  for  my 
future  comfort  to  bestow  myself,  and  any  little  fortune  I  have, 
upon  you,  as  some  reverend  spark  in  a  band  and  short  cloak, 
Avith  the  patrimony  of  a  good  gift  of  prayer,  and  as  little  sense 
as  his  father,  who  was  hanged  in  the  Grassmarket  for  murdering 
the  king's  officers,  had  of  honesty. 

'  Will.  Then  I  must  acknowledge,  my  dear  madam,  I  am 
most  damnably  in  love  with  you,  and  must  have  you  by  foul  or 
fair  means ;  choose  you  whether. 

'  Vio.  I  '11  give  you.  fair-play  in  an  honest  way. 

'  Will.  Then,  madam,  I  can  command  a  parson  when  I 
please ;  and  if  you  be  half  so  kind  as  I  could  "wish,  we  '11  take 
a  hackney,  and  trot  up  to  some  honest  curate's  house  :  besides, 
a  guinea  or  so  will  be  charity  to  him  perhaps. 

'  Vio.  Hold  a  little ;  I  am  hardly  ready  for  that  yet,'  &c. 

After  the  departure  of  this  hopeful  couple,  Lord  Huffy  and 
Lord  Whigriddin,  who  are  understood  to  have  been  intended 
for  Lord  Leven  (son  of  the  Earl  of  Melville)  and  the  Earl  of 
Crawford,  enter  the  gardens,  and  hold  some  discourse  of  a 
different  kind. 


THE    SPEAKING    HOUSE. 

The  mansion  on  which  I  venture  to  confer  this  title  is  an  old 
one  of  imposing  appearance,  a  little  below  Moray  House.  It  is 
conspicuous  by  three  gables  presented  to  the  street,  and  by  the 
unusual  space  of  linear  ground  which  it  occupies.  Originally,  it 
has  had  no  door  to  the  street.  Kporte  cochere  gives  admittance 
to  a  close  behind,  from  which  every  part  of  the  house  had  been 


THE   SPEAKING   HOUSE.  333 

admissible,  and  when  this  gateway  was  closed,  the  inhabitants 
would  be  in  a  tolerably  defensible  position.  In  this  feature  the 
house  gives  a  striking  idea  of  the  insecurity  which  marked  the 
domestic  life  of  three  hundred  years  ago. 

It  was  built  in  the  year  of  the  assassination  of  the  Regent 
Moray,  and  one  is  somewhat  surprised  to  think  that,  at  so  dark 
a  crisis  of  our  national  history,  a  mansion  of  so  costly  a  char- 
acter should  have  taken  its  rise.  The  owner,  whatever  grade  he 
held,  seems  to  have  felt  an  apprehension  of  the  popular  talk  on 
the  subject  of  his  raising  so  elegant  a  mansion;  and  he  took  a 
curious  mode  of  deprecating  its  expression.  On  a  tablet  over  the 
ground  floor,  he  inscribes :  hodie  mihi  :  cras  tibi.  cur  igitur 
CURAS?  along  with  the  year  of  the  erection,  1570.  This  is  as 
much  as  to  say  :  '  I  am  the  happy  man  to-day ;  your  turn  may 
come  to-morrow.  Why,  then,  should  you  repine?'  One  can 
imagine  from  a  second  tablet,  a  little  way  further  along  the 
front,  that  as  the  building  proceeded,  the  storm  of  public  remark 
and  outcry  had  come  to  be  more  and  more  bitter,  so  that  the 
soul  of  the  owner  got  stirred  up  into  a  firm  and  defying 
anger.  He  exclaims  (for,  though  a  lettered  inscription,  one  feels 
it  as  an  exclamation) :  Ut  Tu  Lingua  tu^,  sic  Ego  Mear, 
AURIUM,  DoMiNUS  SUM  ('As  thou  of  thy  tongue,  so  I  of  my 
ears,  am  lord').  Thus  quoting,  in  his  rage  on  this  petty 
occasion,  an  expression  said  to  have  been  used  in  the  Roman 
senate  by  Titus  Tacitus  when  repelling  the  charges  of  Lucius 
Metellus.*  Afterwards,  he  seems  to  have  cooled  into  a  religious 
view  of  the  predicament,  and  in  a  third  legend  along  the  front, 
he  tells  the  world :  Constanti  pectori  res  mortalium  umbra  ; 
ending  a  little  further  on  with  an  emblem  of  the  Christian  hope 
of  the  resurrection,  ears  of  wheat  springing  from  a  handful  of 
bones.  It  is  a  great  pity  that  we  should  not  know  who  was 
the  builder  and  owner  of  this  house,  since  he  has  amused  us  so 
much  with  the  history  of  his  feelings  during  the  process  of  its 

*  I  was  indebted  to  my  friend  Dr  John  Brown  {Harm  Suhseciviz,  p.  42)  for  drawing  my 
attention  to  a  quotation  of  Seneca  by  Beyerlinck  [Magn.  Tlieatr.  Vit.  Human,  torn,  vi.,  p. 
60),  involving  this  fine  expression.  Some  one,  however,  has  searched  all  over  the  writings 
of  Seneca  for  it  in  vain. 


334  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH, 

erection,  A  friend  at  my  elbow  suggests — A  schoolmaster  !  but 
who  ever  heard  of  a  schoolmaster  so  handsomely  remunerated 
by  his  profession  as  to  be  able  to  build  a  house  ! 

Nothing  else  is  known  of  the  early  history  of  this  house 
beyond  the  fact  of  the  Canongate  magistrates  granting  a  charter 
for  it  to  the  Hammermen  of  that  burgh,  September  lo,  1647,  It 
was,  however,  in  1753  occupied  by  a  person  of  no  less  distinction 
than  the  dowager  Duchess  of  Gordon. 

In  the  alley  passing  under  this  mansion  there  is  a  goodly 
building  of  more  modem  structure,  forming  two  sides  of  a 
quadrangle,  ^vith  a  small  court  in  front  divided  from  the  lane 
by  a  wall  in  which  there  is  a  large  gateway.  Amidst  filthiness 
indescribable,  one  discerns  traces  of  former  elegance :  a  crest 
over  the  doorway — namely,  a  cock  mounted  on  a  trumpet,  with- 
the  motto  '  Vigilantibus,'  and  the  date  1633  ;  over  two  upper 
windows,  the  letters  S,  A.  A,  and  D,  M.  H.  These  memorials, 
with  certain  references  in  the  charter  before  mentioned,  leave  no 
room  for  doubt  that  this  was  the  house  of  Sir  Archibald  Acheson 
of  Abercaimy,  secretary  of  state  for  Scotland  in  the  reign  of 
Charles  I,,  and  ancestor  of  the  Earl  of  Gosford  in  Ireland,  who 
to  this  day  bears  the  same  crest  and  motto.  The  letters  are 
the  initials  of  Sir  Archibald  and  his  wife,  Dame  Margaret 
Hamilton.  Here  of  course  was  the  court  of  Scotland  for  a 
certain  time,  the  secretary  of  state  being  the  grand  dispenser  of 
patronage  in  our  country  at  that  period — here,  where  nothing 
but  the  extremest  wretchedness  is  now  to  be  seen  !  That 
boastful  bird,  too,  still  seeming  to  assert  the  family  dignity, 
two  hundred  years  after  it  ceased  to  have  any  connection  wth 
the  spot !  Verily  there  are  some  moral  preachments  in  these 
dark  old  closes,  if  modem  refinement  could  go  to  hear  tlie 
sermon ! 

Sir  Archibald  Acheson  acquired  extensive  lands  in  Ireland, 
which  have  ever  since  been  in  the  possession  of  his  family. 
It  was  a  descendant  of  his,  and  of  the  same  name,  who  had  the 
gratification  of  becoming  the  landlord  of  Swift  at  Market-hill, 
and  whom  the  dean  was  consequently  led  to  celebrate  in  many 


THE   SPEAKING   HOUSE,  335 

of  his  poems.  Swift  seems  to  have  been  on  the  most  famihar 
terms  with  this  worthy  knight  and  his  lady ;  the  latter  he  was 
accustomed  to  call  Skinnibonia,  Lean,  or  Snipe,  as  the  humour 
inclined  him.  The  inimitable  comic  painting  of  her  ladyship's 
maid  Hannah,  in  the  debate  whether  Hamilton's  Bawn  should 
be  turned  into  a  malt-house  or  a  barrack,  can  never  perish  from 
our  literature.  In  like  humour  the  dean  asserts  the  superiority 
of  himself,  and  his  brother-tenant  Colonel  Leslie,  who  had  served 
much  in  Spain,  over  the  knight : 

.  •  Proud  baronet  of  Nova  Scotia, 

The  dean  and  Spaniard  much  reproach  ye. 

Of  their  two  fames  the  world  enough  rings ; 

Where  are  thy  services  and  sufferings  ? 

What  if  for  nothing  once  you  kissed, 

Against  the  grain,  a  monarch's  fist  ? 

What  if  among  the  courtly  tribe, 

You  lost  a  place  and  saved  a  bribe  ? 

And  then  in  surly  mood  came  here 

To  fifteen  hundred  pounds  a  year. 

And  fierce  against  the  Whigs  harangued  ? 

You  never  ventured  to  be  hanged.  n 

How  dare  you  treat  your  betters  thus  ? 

Are  you  to  be  compared  to  us  ? ' 

Speaking  also  of  a  celebrated  thorn  at  Market-hill,  which  had 
long  been  a  resort  of  merry-making  parties,  he  reverts  to  the 
Scottish  secretary  of  former  days  : 

'  Sir  Archibald,  that  valorous  knight, 

The  lord  of  all  the  fruitful  plain, 
J  Would  come  and  listen  with  delight, 

For  he  was  fond  of  niral  strain  : 

Sir  Archibald,  whose  favourite  name 

Shall  stand  for  ages  on  record. 
By  Scottish  bards  of  highest  fame, 

Wise  Hawthomden  and  Stirling's  lord.' 

The  following  letter  to  Sir  Archibald  from  his  friend  Sir  James 
Balfour,  Lord  Lyon,  occurs  amongst  the  manuscript  stores  of 
the  latter  gentleman  in  the  Advocates'  Library ; 


33^  TRADITIONS    OF   EDINBURGH. 

'  To  Sir  Archibald  Achesone, 

one  of  the  Secretaries  of  Staite. 
'Worthy  Sir— Your  letters,  full  of  Spartanical  brevity  to  the  first 
view,  bot,  againe  overlooked,  Demosthenicall  longe  ;  stuffed  full  of 
exaggerations  and  complaints  ;  the  yeast  of  your  enteirest  affections, 
sent  to  quicken  a  slumbring  friend  as  you  imagine,  quho  nevertheless 
remains  vigilant  of  you  and  of  the  smallest  matters,  which  may  aney 
wayes  adde  the  least  rill  of  content  to  the  ocean  of  your  happiness  ; 
quherfor  you  may  show  your  comerad,  and  intreat  him  from  me,  as 
from  one  that  trewly  loves  and  honors  his  best  pairts,  that  now  he 
void  refraine,  both  his  tonge  and  pen,  from  these  quhirkis  and 
obloquies,  quherwith  he  so  often  uses  to  stain  the  name  of  grate 
personages,  for  hardly  can  he  live  so  reteiredly,  in  so  voluble  ane 
age,  without  becoming  at  one  tyme  or  uther  obnoxious  to  the  blow 
of  some  courtier.     So  begging  God  to  bless  you,  I  am  your — • 

Ja.  Balfour. 
'London,  9  Apryll  1631.' 

Twenty  years  before  the  Duchess  of  Gordon  lived  in  the 
venerable  house  at  the  head  of  the  close,  a  preceding  dowager 
resided  in  another  part  of  the  town.  This  was  the  distin- 
guished Lady  Elizabeth  Howard  (daughter  of  the  Duke  of 
Norfolk,  by  Lady  Anne  Somerset,  daughter  of  the  Marquis  of 
Worcester),  who  occasioned  so  much  disturbance  in  the  end  of 
Queen  Anne's  reign,  by  the  Jacobite  medal  which  she  sent  to 
the  Faculty  of  Advocates.  Her  Grace  lived  in  a  house  at  the 
Abbeyhill,  where,  as  we  are  informed  by  Wodrow,  in  a  tone  of 
pious  horror,*  she  openly  kept  a  kind  of  college  for  instructing 
young  people  in  Jesuitism  and  Jacobitism  together.  In  this 
labour  she  seems  to  have  been  assisted  by  the  Duchess  of  Perth, ' 
a  kindred  soul,  whose  enthusiasm  afterwards  caused  the  ruin  of 
her  family,  by  sending  her  son  into  the  insurrection  of  i745.t 
The  Duchess  of  Gordon  died  here  in  1732.  I  should  suppose 
the  house  to  have  been  that  respectable  old  villa,  at  the 
extremity  of  the  suburb  of  Abbeyhill,  in  which  the  late  Baron 

*  In  his  MS.  Diaries  in  the  Advocates'  Library. 

t  In  an  advertisement  in  a  Jacobite  newspaper,  called  The  Thistle,  which  rose  and  sunk 
in  1734,  the  house  is  advertised  as  having  lately  been  occupied  by  the  Duchesses  of  Gordon 
and  Perth.     [iS68.    It  is  in  the  course  of  being  taken  down,  to  make  way  for  a  railway.] 


PANMURE   HOUSE — ADAM    SMITH.  337 

Norton,  of  the  Court  of  Exchequer,  Uved  for  many  years. 
It  was  formerly  possessed  by  Baron  Mure,  who,  during  the 
administration  of  the  Earl  of  Bute,  exercised  the  duties,  and 
dispensed  the  patronage,  of  the  sous-ministre  for  Scotland,  under 
the  Hon.  Stuart  Mackenzie,  younger  brother  of  the  premier. 
This  was  of  course  in  its  turn  the  cotirt  of  Scotland ;  and  from 
,the  description  of  a  gentleman  old  enough  to  remember  attend- 
ing the  levees  (Sir  W.  M.  Bannatyne),  I  should  suppose  that  it 
was  as  much  haunted  by  suitors  of  all  kinds  as  ever  were  the 
more  elegant  halls  of  Holyrood  House.  Baron  Mure,  who  was 
the  personal  friend  of  Earl  Bute,  died  in  1774. 


PANMURE    HOUSE— ADAM    SMITH. 

At  the  bottom  of  a  close  a  little  way  below  the  Canongate 
Church,  there  is  a  house  which,  a  few  years  ago,  bore  the 
appearance  of  one  of  those  small  semi-quadrangular  manor- 
houses  which  were  prevalent  in  the  country  about  the  middle  of 
the  seventeenth  century.  It  is  now  altered,  and  brought  into 
juxtaposition  with  the  coarse  details  of  an  iron-foundry,  yet  still 
is  not  without  some  traits  of  its  original  style.  The  name  of 
Panmure  House  takes  the  mind  back  to  the  Earls  of  Panmure, 
the  fourth  of  whom  lost  title  and  estates  for  his  concern  in  the 
affair  of  17 15;  but  I  am  not  certain  of  any  earlier  proprietor 
of  this  family  than  William  Maule,  nephew  of  the  attainted  earl, 
created  Earl  of  Panmure  as  an  Irish  title  in  1743.  He  possessed 
the  house  in  the  middle  of  the  last  century. 

All  reference  to  rank  in  connection  with  this  house  appears 
trivial  in  comparison  with  the  fact  that  it  was  the  residence  of 
Adam  Smith  from  1778,  when  he  came  to  live  in  Edinburgh  as 
a  commissioner  of  the  customs,  till  his  death  in  1790,  Avhen  he 
was  interred  in  a  somewhat  obscure  situation  at  the  back  of  the 


338  TRADITIONS    OF   EDINBURGH. 

Canongate  Tolbooth.  In  his  time,  the  house  must  have  seen 
the  most  intellectual  company  to  be  had  in  Scotland ;  but  it  had 
not  the  honour  of  being  the  birthplace  of  any  of  Smith's  great 
works.  His  last  and  greatest — the  book  which  has  undoubtedly 
done  more  for  the  good  of  the  community  than  any  other  ever 
produced  in  Scotland — was  the  work  of  ten  quiet  studious  years 
previous  to  1778,  during  which  the  philosopher  lived  in  his 
mother's  house  in  Kirkcaldy. 

The  gentle  virtuous  character  of  Smith  has  left  little  for  the 
anecdotist.  The  utmost  simplicity  marked  the  externals  of  the 
man.  He  said  very  truly  (being  in  possession  of  a  handsome 
library)  that  '  he  was  only  a  beau  in  his  books.'  Leading  an 
abstracted  scholarly  life,  he  was  ill  fitted  for  common  worldly 
affairs.  Some  one  remarked  to  a  friend  of  mine,  while  Smith 
still  lived :  '  How  strange  to  think  of  one  who  has  written  so 
well  on  the  principles  of  exchange  and  barter — he  is  obliged  to 
get  a  friend  to  buy  his  horse-corn  for  him  ! '  The  author  of  the 
Wealth  of  Nations  never  thought  of  marrying.  His  household 
affairs  were  managed  to  his  perfect  contentment  by  a  female 
cousin,  a  Miss  Jeanie  Douglas,  who  almost  necessarily  acquired 
a  great  control  over  him.  It  is  said  that  the  amiable  philos- 
opher, being  fond  of  a  bit  of  sugar,  and  chid  by  her  for  taking 
it,  would  sometimes,  in  sauntering  backwards  and  forwards  along 
the  parlour,  watch  till  Miss  Jeanie's  back  was  turned,  in  order 
to  supply  himself  with  his  favourite  morsel.  Such  things  are 
not  derogatory  to  greatness  like  Smith's  :  they  link  it  to  human 
nature,  and  secure  for  it  the  love,  as  it  had  previously  possessed 
the  admiration,  of  common  men. 

The  one  personal  circumstance  regarding  Smith  which  has 
made  the  greatest  impression  on  his  fellow-citizens,  is  the  rather 
too  well-known  anecdote  of  the  two  fishwomen.  He  was  walking 
along  the  streets  one  day,  deeply  abstracted,  and  speaking  in  a 
low  tone  to  himself,  when  he  caught  the  attention  of  two  of 
these  many-petticoated  ladies,  engaged  in  selling  their  fish. 
They  exchanged  significant  looks,  bearing  strong  reference  to 
the  restraints  of  a  well-managed  lunatic  asylum,  and  then  sighed 


^  JOHN   PATERSON   THE   GOLFER.  339 

one  to  the  other  :  '  Aih,  sirs ;  and  he 's  weel  put  on  too  ! '  that 
is,  well  dressed ;  his  gentleman-like  condition  making  the  case 
appear  so  much  the  more  piteous. 


JOHN  PATERSON  THE  GOLFER. 

In  the  Canongate,  nearly  opposite  to  Queensberry  House,  is  a 
narrow  old-fashioned  mansion,  of  peculiar  form,  having  a  coat- 
armorial  conspicuously  placed  at  the  top,  and  a  plain  slab  over 
the  doorway  containing  the  following  inscriptions  : 

'  Cum  victor  ludo,  Scotis  qui  proprius,  esset, 
Ter  tres  victores  post  redimitus  avos, 
Patersonus,  humo  tunc  educebat  in  altum 
Hanc,  quae  victores  tot  tulit  una,  domum.' 

'  I  hate  no  person.' 

It  appears  that  this  quatrain  was  the  production  of  Dr 
Pitcairn,  while  the  sentence  below  is  an  anagram  upon  the 
name  of  John  Patersone.  The  stanza  expresses,  that '  when 
Paterson  had  been  crowned  victor  in  a  game  peculiar  to 
Scotland,  in  which  his  ancestors  had  also  been  often  victorious, 
he  then  built  this  mansion,  which  one  conquest  raised  him 
above  all  his  predecessors.'  We  must  resort  to  tradition  for  an 
explanation  of  this  obscure  hint. 

Till  a  recent  period,  golfing  had  long  been  conducted  upon 
the  Links  of  Leith.'''  It  had  even  been  the  sport  of  princes  on 
that  field.  We  are  told  by  Mr  William  Tytler  of  Woodhouselee, 
that  Charles  I.  and  the  Duke  of  York  (afterwards  James  II.) 
played  at  golf  on  'Leith  Links,  in  succession,  during  the  brief 
periods  of  their  residence  in  Holyrood.  Though  there  is  an 
improbability  in  this  tale  as  far  as  Charles  is  concerned,  seeing 

*  In  1864,  this  favourite  Scottish  pastime  was  resuscitated  on  Leith  Links,  and  is  now 
enjoyed  with  a  relish  as  keen  as  ever. 


340  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

that  he  spent  too  short  a  time  in  Edinburgh  to  have  been  able 
to  play  at  a  game  notorious  for  the  time  necessary  in  acquiring 
it,  I  may  quote  the  anecdote  related  by  Mr  Tytler  :  '  That  while 
he  was  engaged  in  a  party  at  golf  on  the  green  or  Links  of 
Leith,  a  letter  was  delivered  into  his  hands,  which  gave  him  the 
first  account  of  the  insurrection  and  rebellion  in  Ireland ;  on 
reading  which,  he  suddenly  called  for  his  coach,  and  leaning  on 
one  of  his  attendants,  and  in  great  agitation,  drove  to  the  palace 
of  Hol)TOod  House,  from  whence  next  day  he  set  out  for  London.' 
Mr  Tytler  says,  regarding  the  Duke  of  York,  that  he  'was 
frequently  seen  in  a  party  at  golf  on  the  Links  of  Leith  with 
some  of  the  nobility  and  gentry.  I  remember  in  my  youth  to 
have  often  conversed  with  an  old  man  named  Andrew  Dickson, 
a  golf-club  maker,  who  said  that,  when  a  boy,  he  used  to  carry 
the  duke's  golf-clubs,  and  run  before  him,  and  announce  where 
the  balls  fell.'  * 

Tradition  reports  that  when  the  duke  lived  in  Holyrood  House, 
he  had  on  one  occasion  a  discussion  with  two  English  noblemen 
as  to  the  native  country  of  golf;  his  royal  highness  asserting 
that  it  was  peculiar  to  Scotland,  while  they  as  pertinaciously 
insisted  that  it  was  an  English  game  as  well.  Assuredly,  what- 
ever may  have  been  the  case  in  those  days,  it  is  not  now  an 
English  game  in  the  proper  sense  of  the  words,  seeing  that  it  is 
only  played  to  the  south  of  the  Tweed  by  a  few  fraternities  of 
Scotsmen,  who  have  acquired  it  in  their  own  country  in  youth. 
However  this  may  be,  the  two  English  nobles  proposed,  good- 
humouredly,  to  prove  its  English  character  by  taking  up  the, 
duke  in  a  match,  to  be  played  on  Leith  Links.  James,  glad  of 
an  opportunity  to  make  popularity  in  Scotland,  in  however  small 
a  way,  accepted  the  challenge,  and  sought  for  the  best  partner 
he  could  find.  By  an  association  not  at  this  day  surprising  to 
those  who  practise  the  game,  the  heir  presumptive  of  the  British 
throne  played  in  concert  with  a  poor  shoemaker  named  John 
Paterson,  the  worthy  descendant  of  a  long  line  of  illustrious 
golfers.     If  the  two  southrons  were,  as  might  be  expected, 

*  Arclueolosia  Scotica,  i. 


V      LOTHIAN    HUT.  341 

inexperienced  in  the  game,  they  had  no  chance  against  a  pair, 
one  member  of  which  was  a  good  player.  So  the  duke  got  the 
best  of  the  practical  argument;  and  Paterson's  merits  were 
rewarded  by  a  gift  of  the  sum  played  for.  The  story  goes  on  to 
say  that  John  was  thus  enabled  to  build  a  somewhat  stylish 
house  for  himself  in  the  Canongate ;  on  the  top  of  which,  being 
a  Scotsman,  and  having  of  course  a  pedigree,  he  clapped  the 
Paterson  arms — three  pelicans  vulned;  on  a  chief  three  mullets; 
crest,  a  dexter  hand  grasping  a  golf-club ;  together  with  the 
motto — dear  to  all  golfers — Far  and  Sure. 

It  must  be  admitted  there  is  some  uncertainty  about  this  tale. 
The  house,  the  inscriptions,  and  arms  only  indicate  that 
Paterson  built  the  house  after  being  a  victor  at  golf,  and 
that  Pitcaim  had  a  hand  in  decorating  it.  One  might  even 
see,  in  the  fact  of  the  epigram,  as  if  a  gentleman  wit  were 
indulging  in  a  jest  at  the  expense  of  some  simple  plebeian,  who 
held  all  notoriety  honourable.  It  might  have  been  expected 
that,  if  Paterson  had  been  enriched  by  a  match  in  which  he  was 
connected  with  the  Duke  of  York,  a  Jacobite  like  Pitcairn  would 
have  made  distinct  allusion  to  the  circumstance.  The  tradition, 
nevertheless,  seems  too  curious  to  be  entirely  overlooked,  and 
the  reader  may  therefore  take  it  at  its  worth. 


[LOTHIAN    HUT. 

The  noble  family  of  Lothian  had  a  •  mansion  in  Edinburgh, 
though  of  but  a  moderate  dignity.  It  was  a  small  house  situated 
in  a  spare  piece  of  ground  at  the  bottom  of  the  Canongate,  on 
the  south  side.  Latterly,  it  was  leased  to  Professor  Dugald 
Stewart,  who,  about  the  end  of  the  last  century,  here  entertained 
several  English  pupils  of  noble  rank — among  others,  the  Hon. 


342  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

Henry  Temple,  afterwards   Lord  Palmerston.*      About   1825, 
the  building  was  taken  down  to  make  room  for  a  brewery. 

About  the  middle  of  the  last  century,  Lothian  Hut  was 
occupied  by  the  wife  of  the  fourth  marquis,  a  lady  of  great 
lineage,  being  the  only  daughter  of  Robert,  Earl  of  Holdemess, 
and  great-granddaughter  of  Charles  Louis,  Elector  Palatine. 
Her  ladyship  was  a  person  of  grand  character,  while  yet 
admittedly  very  amiable.  As  a  piece  of  very  old  gossip  : 
The  Lady  Marchioness,  on  first  coming  to  live  in  the  Hut, 
found  herself  in  want  of  a  few  trifling  articles  from  a  milliner, 
and  sent  for  one  who  was  reputed  to  be  the  first  of  the  class 
then  in  Edinburgh — ^namely.  Miss  Ramsay.  But  there  were 
two  Miss  Ramsays.  They  had  a  shop  on  the  east  side  of  the 
Old  Lyon  Close,  on  the  south  side  of  the  High  Street;  and 
there  made  ultimately  a  little  fortune,  which  enabled  them  to 
build  the  villa  of  Marionville,  near  Restalrig  (called  Lappet  Hall 
by  the  vulgar).  The  Misses  Ramsay,  receiving  a  message  from 
so  grand  a  lady,  instead  of  obeying  the  order  implicitly,  came 
together,  dressed  out  in  a  very  splendid  style,  and  told  the 
marchioness  that  every  article  they  wore  was  'at  the  very  top 
of  the  fashion.'  The  marchioness,  disgusted  with  their  forward- 
ness and  affectation,  said  she  would  take  their  specimens  into 
consideration,  and  wished  them  a  good-moming.  According  to 
our  gossiping  authority,  she  then  sent  for  Mrs  Sellar,  who  carried 
on  the  millinery  business  in  a  less  pretentious  style  at  a  place 
in  the  Lawnmarket  where  Bank  Street  now  stands.  (I  like  the 
localities,  for  they  bring  the  Old  Town  of  a  past  age  so  clearly 
before  us).  Mrs  Sellar  made  her  appearance  at  Lothian  Hut  in 
a  plain  decorous  manner.     Her  head-dress  consisted  of  a  mob 

*  A  newspaper,  giving  an  account  of  Lord  Palmerston's  visit  to  Edinburgh  in  1865, 
mentions  that  his  lordship,  during  his  stay  in  the  city,  was  made  aware  that  an  aged  woman 
of  the  name  of  Peggie  Forbes,  who  had  been  a  servant  with  Dugald  Stewart,  well  remem- 
bered his  lordship  when  under  the  professor's  roof  in  early  days.  Interested  in  the  circum- 
stance, Lord  Palmerston  took  occasion  to  pay  her  a  visit  at  her  dweUing,  No.  i  Rankeillor 
Street,  and  e.xpressed  his  pleasure  at  renewing  the  acquaintance  of  the  old^domestic.  Dr 
John  Brown  had  discovered  the  ex-istence  of  this  old  association,  and  with  it  a  box  of  tools 
which  were  the  property  of  'young  Maister  Henry'  of  those  days.  The  sight  of  them 
called  up  within  the  breast  of  the  Premier  further  associations  of  days  long  bygone. 


HENRY   PRENTICE   AND   POTATOES.  343 

cap  of  the  finest  lawn,  tied  under  her  chin ;  over  which  there 
was  a  hood  of  the  same  stuff.  She  wore  a  cloak  of  plain  black 
silk  without  any  lace,  and  had  no  bonnet,  the  use  of  which  was 
supplied  by  the  hood.  Mrs  Sellar's  manners  were  elegant  and 
pleasing.  When  she  entered,  the  marchioness  rose  to  receive 
her.  On  being  asked  for  her  patterns,  she  stepped  to  the  door 
and  brought  in  two  large  boxes  which  had  been  carried  behind 
her  by  two  women.  The  articles,  being  produced,  gave  great 
satisfaction,  and  her  ladyship  never  afterwards  employed  any 
other  milliner.  So  the  story  ends,  in  the  manner  of  the  good- 
boy  books,  in  establishing  that  milliners  ought  not  to  be  too 
prone  to  exhibit  their  patterns  upon  their  own  persons.] 


HENRY  PRENTICE  AND  POTATOES. 

No  doubt  is  entertained  on  any  hand  that  the  field-culture  of 
the  potato  was  first  practised  in  Scotland  by  a  man  of  humble 
condition,  originally  a  pedler,  by  name  Henry  Prentice.  He 
was  an  eccentric  person,  as  rnany  have  been  who  stepped  out  of 
the  common  walk  to  do  things  afterwards  discovered  to  be  great. 
A  story  is  told,  that  while  the  potatoes  were  growing  in  certain 
little  fields  which  he  leased  near  our  city,  Lord  Minto  came 
from  time  to  time  to  inquire  about  the  crop.  Prentice  at  length 
told  his  lordship  that  the  experiment  was  entirely  successful,  and 
all  he  wanted  was  a  horse  and  cart  to  drive  his  potatoes  to 
Edinburgh,  that  they  might  be  sold.  *  I  '11  give  you  a  horse  and 
cart,'  said  his  lordship.  Prentice  then  took  his  crop  to  market, 
cart  by  cart,  till  it  was  all  sold,  after  which  he  disposed  of  the 
horse  and  cart,  which  he  affected  to  believe  Lord  Minto  had 
given  him  as  a  present. 

Having,  towards  the  close  of  his  days,  realised  a  small  sum 


344  TRADITIONS   OF  EDINBURGH. 

of  money,  he  sunk  ^^140  in  the  hands  of  the  Canongate  magis- 
trates, as  managers  of  the  poor-house  of  that  parish,  receiving  in 
return  seven  shillings  a  week,  upon  which  he  lived  for  several 
years.  Occasionally,  he  made  little  donations  to  the  charity. 
During  his  last  years,  he  was  an  object  of  no  small  curiosity  in 
Edinburgh,  partly  on  account  of  his  connection  with  potato 
culture,  and  partly  by  reason  of  his  oddities.  It  was  said  of 
him  that  he  would  never  shake  hands  with  any  human  being 
above  two  years  of  age.  In  his  bargain  with  the  Canongate 
dignitaries,  it  was  agreed  that  he  should  have  a  good  grave  in 
their  churchyard,  and  one  was  selected  according  to  his  own 
choice.  Over  this,  thinking  it  as  well,  perhaps,  that  he  should 
enjoy  a  little  quasi-posthumous  notoriety  during  his  life,  he 
caused  a  monument  to  be  erected,  bearing  this  inscription : 

'  Be  not  anxious  to  know  how  I  lived,  , 

But  rather  how  you  yourself  should  die.' 

He  also  had  a  coffin  prepared,  at  the  price  of  two  guineas,  taking 
the  undertaker  bound  to  screw  it  down  gratis  with  his  own 
hands.  In  addition  to  all  this,  his  friends  the  magistrates  were 
under  covenant  to  bury  him  with  a  hearse  and  four  coaches. 
But  even  the  designs  of  mortals  respecting  the  grave  itself  are 
liable  to  disappointment.  Owing  to  the  mischief  done  by  the 
boys  to  the  premature  monument,  Prentice  saw  fit  to  have  it 
removed  to  a  quieter  cemetery,  that  of  Restalrig,  where,  at  his 
death  in  1788,  he  was  accordingly  interred. 

Such  was  the  originator  of  that  extensive  culture  of  the  potato 
which  has  since  borne  so  conspicuous  a  place  in  the  economics 
of  our  country,  for  good  and  for  evil. 

It  is  curious  that  this  plant,  although  the  sole  support  of 
millions  of  our  population,  should  now  again  (1846)  have  fallen 
under  suspicion.  At  its  first  introduction,  and  for  several  ages 
thereafter,  it  was  regarded  as  a  vegetable  of  by  no  means  good 
character,  though  for  a  totally  different  reason  from  any  which 
affect  its  reputation  in  our  day.  Its  supposed  tendency  to 
inflame  some  of  the  sensual  feelings  of  human  nature,  is  frequently 


DUCHESS    OF   BUCCLEUCH   AND   MONMOUTH.  345 

adverted  to  by  Shakspeare  and  his  contemporaries;  and  this 
long  remained  a  popular  impression  in  the  north.* 


THE  DUCHESS  OF  BUCCLEUCH  AND  MONMOUTH. 

It  is  rather  curious  that  one  of  my  informants  in  this  article 
should  have  dined  with  a  lady  who  had  dined  with  a  peeress 
married  in  the  year  1662. 

This  peeress  was  Anne,  Duchess  of  Buccleuch  and  Monmouth, 
the  wife  of 'the  unfortunate  son  of  Charles  II.  As  is  well  known, 
she  was  early  deserted  by  her  husband,  who  represented,  not 
without  justice,  that  a  marriage  into  which  he  had  been  tempted 
for  reasons  of  policy  by  his  relations,  when  he  was  only  thirteen 
years  of  age,  could  hardly  be  binding. 

The  young  duchess,  naturally  plain  in  features,  was  so  unfor- 
tunate in  early  womanhood  as  to  become  lame,  in  consequence 
of  some  feats  in  dancing.  For  her  want  of  personal  graces, 
there  is  negative  evidence  in  a  dedication  of  Dryden,  where  he 
speaks  abundantly  of  her  wit,  but  not  a  word  of  beauty — ^which 
shews  that  the  case  must  have  been  desperate.  [This,  by  the 
way,  was  the  remark  made  to  me  on  the  subject  by  Sir  Walter 
Scott,  who,  in  the  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel,  has  done  what 
Dryden  could  not  do — flattered  the  duchess  : 

'  She  had  known  adversity, 
Though  born  in  such  a  high  degree  ; 
In  pride  of  power  and  beauty's  bloom. 
Had  wept  o'er  Monmouth's  bloody  tomb.'] 

*  Robertson,  in  his  R-ural Recollections  (Irvine,  1829),  says:  'The  earliest  evidence  that 
I  have  met  writh  of  potatoes  in  Scotland,  is  an  old  household  book  of  the  Eglintoune  family, 
in  1733,  in  which  potatoes  appear  at  different  times  as  a  dish  at  supper.'  They  appear 
earlier  than  this — namely,  in  1701 — in  the  household  book  of  the  Duchess  of  Buccleuch  and 
IMonmouth,  where  the  price  per  peck  is  intimated  at  2s.  6d. — See  Amot's  History  of 
Edinburgh,  410,  p.  20i« 


346  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

Were  any  further  proof  wanting,  it  might  be  found  in  the  regard 
in  which  she  was  held  by  James  II.,  who,  as  is  well  known,  had 
such  a  tendency  to  plain  women,  as  induced  a  suspicion  in  his 
witty  brother  that  they  were  prescribed  to  him  by  his  confessor 
by  way  of  penance.  This  friendship,  in  which  there  was  nothing 
improper,  was  the  means  of  saving  her  Grace's  estates  at  the 
tragical  close  of  her  husband's  life. 

It  is  curious  to  learn  that  the  duchess,  notwithstanding  the 
terms  on  which  she  had  been  with  her  husband,  and  the  sad 
stamp  put  upon  his  pretensions  to  legitimacy,  acted  throughout 
the  remainder  of  her  somewhat  protracted  life  as  if  she  had  been 
the  widow  of  a  true  prince  of  the  blood-royal.  In  her  state- 
rooms she  had  a  canopy  erected,  beneath  which  was  the  only 
seat  in  the  apartment,  everybody  standing  besides  herself  When 
Lady  Margaret  Montgomery,  one  of  the  beautiful  Countess  of 
Eglintoune's  daughters,  was  at  a  boarding-school  near  London — 
previous  to  the  year  Thirty — she  was  frequently  invited  by  the 
duchess  to  her  house;  and  because  her  great-grandmother.  Lady 
Mary  Leslie,  was  sister  to  her  Grace's  mother,  she  was  allowed 
a  chair;  but  this  was  an  extraordinary  mark  of  grace.  The 
duchess  was  the  last  person  of  quality  in  Scotland  who  kept 
pages,  in  the  proper  acceptation  of  the  term — that  is,  young 
gentlemen  of  good  birth,  who  acquired  manners  and  knowledge 
of  the  world  in  attending  upon  persons  of  exalted  rank.  The 
last  of  her  Grace's  pages  rose  to  be  a  general.  When  a  letter 
was  brought  for  the  duchess,  the  domestic  gave  it  to  the  page — 
the  page  to  the  waiting-gentlewoman  (always  a  person  of  birth 
also) — and  she  at  length  to  her  Grace.  The  duchess  kept  a 
tight  hand  over  her  clan  and  tenants,  but  was  upon  the  whole 
beloved. 

She  was  buried  (1732)  on  the  same  day  with  the  too  much- 
celebrated  Colonel  Charteris.  At  the  funeral  of  Henry,  Duke 
of  Buccleuch,  in  the  year  181 2,  in  the  aisle  of  the  church  at 
Dalkeith,  my  informant  (Sir  Walter  Scott)  was  shewn  an  old 
man  who  had  been  at  the  funeral  of  both  her  Grace  and  Colonel 
Charteris.     He  said  that  the  day  was  dreadfully  stormy,  which. 


DUCHESS    OF   BUCCLEUCH   AND   MONMOUTH.  347 

all  the  world  agreed,  was  owing  to  the  devil  carrying  off 
Charteris.  The  mob  broke  in  upon  the  mourners  who  followed 
this  personage  to  the  grave,  and  threw  cats,  dogs,  and  a  pack  of 
cards  upon  the  coffin;  whereupon  the  gentlemen  drew  their 
swords,  and  cut  away  among  the  rioters.  In  the  confusion,  one 
little  old  man  was  pushed  into  the  grave ;  and  the  sextons, 
somewhat  prompt  in  the  discharge  of  their  duty,  began  to  shovel 
in  the  earth  upon  the  quick  and  the  dead.  The  grandfather  of 
my  informant  (Dr  Rutherford),  who  was  one  of  the  mourners, 
was  much  hurt  in  the  affray ;  and  my  informant  has  heard  his 
mother  describe  the  terror  of  the  family  on  his  coming  home 
with  his  clothes  bloody  and  his  sword  broken. 

As  to  pages — a  custom  existed  among  old  ladies  till  a  later 
day  of  keeping  such  attendants,  rather  superior  to  the  little 
polybuttoned  personages  who  are  now  so  universal.  It  was  not, 
however,  to  be  expected  that  a  pranksome  youth  would  behave 
with  consistent  respect  to  an  aged  female  of  the  stiff  manners 
then  prevalent.  Accordingly,  ridiculous  circumstances  took 
place.  An  old  lady  of  the  name  of  Plenderleith,  of  very  stately 
aspect  and  grave  carriage,  used  to  walk  to  Leith  by  the  Easter 
Road  with  her  little  foot-page  behind  her.  For  the  whole  way, 
the  young  rogue  would  be  seen  projecting  burs  at  her  dress, 
laughing  immoderately,  but  silently,  when  one  stuck.  An  old 
lady  and  her  sequel  of  a  page  was  very  much  like  a  tragedy 
followed  by  a  farce.  The  keeping  of  the  rascals  in  order  at 
home  used  also  to  be  a  sad  problem  to  a  quiet  old  lady.     The 

only  expedient  which  Miss could  hit  upon  to  preserve  her 

page  from  the  corruption  of  the  streets  was,  in  her  own  phrase, 
to  lock  up  his  hreeks,  which  she  did  almost  every  evening.  The 
youth,  being  then  only  presentable  at  a  window,  had  to  content 
himself  with  such  chat  as  he  could  indulge  in  with  his  companions, 
and  such  mischief  as  he  could  execute,  from  that  loophole  of 
retreat.     So  much  for  the  parade  of  keeping  pages. 


348  TRADITIONS   OF  EDINBURGH. 


CLAUDERO. 

Edinburgh,  which  now  smiles  complacently  upon  the  gravities 
of  her  reviews,  and  the  flippancies  of  her  magazines,  formerly- 
laughed  outright  at  the  coarse  lampoons  of  her  favourite  poet 
and  pamphleteer,  Claudero.  The  distinct  publications  of  this 
witty  and  eccentric  personage  (whose  real  name  was  James 
Wilson)  are  well  known  to  collectors ;  and  his  occasional  pieces 
must  be  fresh  in  the  remembrance  of  those  who,  forty  or  fifty 
years  ago  (1824),  were  in  the  habit  of  perusing  the  Scots  Maga- 
zi?ie,  amidst  the  general  gravity  of  which  they  appeared,  like  the 
bright  and  giddy  eyes  of  a  satyr,  staring  through  the  sere  leaves 
of  a  sober  forest  scene. 

Claudero  was  a  native  of  Cumbernauld,  in  Dumbartonshire, 
and  at  an  early  period  of  his  life  shewed  such  marks  of  a 
mischief-loving  disposition,  as  procured  him  general  odium.  The 
occasion  of  his  lameness  was  a  pebble  thrown  from  a  tree  at  the 
minister,  who,  having  been  previously  exasperated  by  his  tricks, 
chased  him  to  the  end  of  a  closed  lane,  and  with  his  cane  inflicted 
such  personal  chastisement  as  rendered  him  a  cripple,  and  a 
hater  of  the  clergy,  for  the  rest  of  his  life. 

In  Edinburgh,  where  he  lived  for  upwards  of  thirty  years 
previous  to  his  death  in  1789,  his  livelihood  was  at  first  osten- 
sibly gained  by  keeping  a  little  school,  latterly  by  celebrating 
what  were  called  half-mark  marriages ;  a  business  resembling 
that  of  the  Gretna  blacksmith.  It  is  said  that  he  who  made 
himself  the  terror  of  so  many  by  his  wit,  was  in  his  turn  held  in 
fear  by  his  wife,  who  was  as  complete  a  shrew  as  ever  fell  to  the 
lot  of  poet  or  philosopher. 

He  was  a  satirist  by  profession ;  and  when  any  person  wished 
to  have  a  squib  played  ofif  upon  his  neighbours,  he  had  nothing 
to  do  but  call  upon  Claudero,  who,  for  half-a-cro^vn,  would 
produce  the  desired  effusion,  composed,  and  copied  ofif  in  a  fair 


CLAUDERO.  349 

hand,  in  a  given  time.  He  liked  this  species  of  employment 
better  than  writing  upon  speculation,  the  profit  being  more 
certain  and  immediate.  When  in  want  of  money,  it  was  his 
custom  to  write  a  sly  satire  on  some  opulent  public  personage, 
upon  whom  he  called  with  it,  desiring  to  have  his  opinion  of  the 
work,  and  his  countenance  in  favour  of  a  subscription  for  its 
publication.  The  object  of  his  ridicule,  conscience-struck  by  his 
own  portrait,  would  wince,  and  be  civil,  advise  him  to  give  up 
thoughts  of  publishing  So  hasty  a  production,  and  conclude  by 
offering  a  guinea  or  two,  to  keep  the  poet  alive  till  better  times 
should  come  round.  At  that  time  there  lived  in  Edinburgh  a 
number  of  rich  old  men,  who  had  made  fortunes  in  questionable 
ways  abroad,  and  whose  characters,  labouring  under  strange 
suspicions,  were  wonderfully  susceptible  of  Claudero's  satire. 
These  the  wag  used  to  bleed  profusely  and  frequently,  by  working 
upon  their  fears  of  public  notice. 

In  1766  SL-pT^eaxed  Afisce/lanies  m  Prose  and  Verse,  by  ClauderOy 
Son  of  Nimrod  the  Mighty  JItmter,  6^^.  6^^.,  opening  with  this 
preface :  *  Christian  Reader — The  following  miscellany  is  pub- 
lished at  the  desire  of  many  gentlemen,  who  have  all  been  my 
very  good  friends ;  if  there  be  anything  in  it  amusing  or  enter- 
taining, I  shall  be  very  glad  I  have  contributed  to  your  diversion, 
and  will  laugh  as  heartily  at  your  money  as  you  do  at  my  works. 
Several  of  my  pieces  may  need  explanation;  but  I  am  too. 
cunning  for  that :  what  is  not  understood,  like  Presbyterian 
preaching,  will  at  least  be  admired.  I  am  regardless  of  critics  : 
perhaps  some  of  my  lines  want  a  foot ;  but  then,  if  the  critic 
look  sharp  out,  he  will  find  that  loss  sufficiently  supplied  in  other 
places,  where  they  have  a  foot  too  much :  and  besides,  men's 
works  generally  resemble  themselves ;  if  the  poems  are  lame,  so 
is  the  author — Claudero.' 

The  most  remarkable  poems  in  this  volume  are :  '  The  Echo 
of  the  Royal  Porch  of  the  Palace  of  Holyrood  House,  which 
fell  under  Military  Execution,  anno  1753;'  'The  Last  Speech 
and  Dying  Words  of  the  Cross,  which  was  Hanged,  Drawn,  and 
Quartered  on  Monday  the  15th  of  March  1756,  for  the  horrid 


350  TRADITIONS    OF   EDINBURGH. 

crime  of  being  an  Incumbrance  to  the  Street;'  'Scotland  in 
Tears  for  the  horrid  Treatment  of  the  Kings'  Sepulchres ; '  '  An 
Elegy  on  the  much-lamented  Death  of  Quaker  Erskine ;' *  'A 
Sennon  on  the  Condemnation  of  the  Netherbowj'  'Humphry 
Colquhoun's  Last  Farewell,'  &c.  Claudero  seems  to  have  been 
the  only  man  of  his  time  who  remonstrated  against  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  venerable  edifices  then  removed  from  the  streets 
which  they  ornamented,  to  the  disappointment  and  indignation 
of  all  future  antiquaries.  There  is  much  wit  in  his  sermon  upon 
the  destruction  of  the  Netherbow :  '  What  was  too  hard,'  he 
says, '  for  the  great  ones  of  the  earth,  yea,  even  queens,  to  effect, 
is  now  accomplished.  No  patriot  duke  opposeth  the  scheme, 
as  did  the  great  Argyll  in  the  grand  senate  of  our  nation; 
therefore  the  project  shall  go  into  execution,  and  down  shall 
Edina's  lofty  porches  be  hurled  with  a  vengeance.  Streets  shall 
be  extended  to  the  east,  regular  and  beautiful,  as  far  as  the 
Frigate  Whins;  and  Portobellot  shall  be  a  lodge  for  the  captors 
of  tea  and  brandy.  The  city  shall  be  joined  to  Leith  on  the 
north,  and  a  procession  of  wise  masons  shall  there  lay  the 
foundations  of  a  spacious  harbour.  Pequin  or  Nanquin  shall 
not  be  able  to  compare  with  Edinburgh  for  magnificence.  Our 
city  shall  be  the  greatest  wonder  of  the  world,  and  the  fame  of 
its  glory  shall  reach  the  distant  ends  of  the  earth.]:  But  lament, 
O  thou  descendant  of  the  royal  Dane,  and  chief  of  the  tribe  of 

*  A  noted  brewer,  much  given  to  preaching.     Of  him  Claudero  says : 
'  Our  souls  with  gospel  he  did  cheer. 
Our  bodies,  too,  with  ale  and  beer ; 
Gf-aiis  he  gospel  got  and  gave  away ; 
For  ale  and  beer  he  only  made  us  pay.' 

f  This  thriving  parliamentary  burgh  originated  in  a  cottage  built,  and  long  inhabited,  by 
a  retired  seaman  of  Admiral  Vernon's  squadron,  who  gave  it  this  name,  in  commemoration 
of  the  triumph  which  his  commander  there  gained  over  the  Spaniards  in  1739.  There  must 
have  been  various  houses  at  the  spot  in  1753,  when  we  find  one  '  George  Hamilton,  in 
Portobello,'  advertising  in  the  Edinburgh  Cozirant,  that  he  would  give  a  reward  of  three 
pounds  to  any  one  who  should  discover  the  author  of  a  scandalous  report,  which  represented 
liim  as  harbouring  robbers  in  his  house. 

The  waste  upon  which  Portobello  is  now  partly  founded  was  dreadfully  infested  at  this 
time  with  robbers,  and  resorted  to  by  smugglers. — See  Couranifor  the  thne. 

\  Claudero  could  have  little  serious  expectation  that  several  of  these  predictions  would 
come  to  pass  before  he  had  been  forty  years  in  his  grave. 


CLATTDERO.  35 1 

Wilson ;  for  thy  shop,  contiguous  to  the  porch,  shall  be  dashed 
to  pieces,  and  its  place  will  know  thee  no  more  !  No  more 
shall  the  melodious  voice  of  the  loyalist  Grant*  be  heard  in  the 
morning,  nor  shall  he  any  more  shake  the  bending  wand  towards 
the  triumphal  arch.  Let  all  who  angle  in  deep  waters  lament, 
for  Tom  had  not  his  equal.  The  Netherbow  Coffee-house  of 
the  loyal  Smeiton  can  now  no  longer  enjoy  its  ancient  name 
with  propriety ;  and  from  henceforth  T/ie  Revolutioit  Coffee-house 
shall  its  name  be  called.  Our  gates  must  be  extended  wide  for 
accommodating  the  gilded  chariots,  which,  from  the  luxury  of 
the  age,  are  become  numerous.  With  an  impetuous  career,  they 
jostle  against  one  another  in  our  streets,  and  the  unwary  foot- 
passenger  is  in  danger  of  being  crushed  to  pieces.  The  loaded 
cart  itself  cannot  withstand  their  fury,  and  the  hideous  yells  of 
Coal  Johnie  resound  through  the  vaulted  sky.  The  sour-milk 
barrels  are  overturned,  and  deluges  of  Corstorphin  cream  run 
down  our  strands,  while  the  poor  unhappy  milkmaid  wrings  her 
hands  with  sorrow.'  To  the  sermon  are  appended  the  'Last 
Speech  and  Dying  Words  of  the  Netherbow,'  in  which  the 
following  laughable  declaration  occurs :  '  May  my  clock  be 
struck  dumb  in  the  other  world,  if  I  lie  in  this  !  and  may  Mack, 
the  reformer  of  Edina's  lofty  spires,  never  bestride  my  weather- 
cock on  high,  if  I  deviate  from  truth  in  these  my  last  words ! 
Though  my  fabric  shall  be  levelled  with  the  dust  of  the  earth, 
yet  I  fall  in  hope  that  my  weathercock  shall  be  exalted  on  some 
more  modern  dome,  where  it  shall  shine  like  the  burnished  gold, 
reflecting  the  rays  of  the  sun  to  the  eye  of  ages  unborn.  The 
daring  Mack  shall  yet  look  down  from  my  cock,  high  in  the 
airy  region,  to  the  brandy-shops  below,  where  large  graybeards 
shall  appear  to  him  no  bigger  than  mutchkin-bottles,  and 
mutchkin-bottles  shall  be  in  his  sight  like  the  spark  of  a  diamond.' 

*  A  celebrated  and  much-esteemed  fishing-rod  maker,  who  afterwards  flourished  in  the 
old  wooden  land  at  the  head  of  Blackfriars  Wynd.  He  survived  to  recent  times,  and  was 
distinguished  for  his  adherence  to  the  cocked  hat,  wrist  ruffles,  and  buckles  of  his  youth. 
He  was  a  short  neat  man,  very  well-bred,  a  great  angler,  intimate  with  the  great,  a  Jacobite, 
and  lived  to  near  a  century.  He  had  fished  in  almost  every  trouting  stream  in  the  three; 
kingdoms,  and  was  seen  skating  on  Lochend  at  the  age  of  eighty-five.  His  fishing-rods 
are  still  esteemed  of  peculiar  excellence  and  value. 


352  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

One  of  Claudero's  versified  compositions,  'Humphry  Colquhoun'§ 
Farewell/  is  remarkable  as  a  kind  of  coarse  prototype  of  the 
beautiful  lyric  entitled  'Mary,'  sung  in  The  Pirate  by  Claud 
Halcro.  One  wonders  to  find  the  genius  of  Scott  refining  upon 
such  materials : 

*  Farewell  to  Auld  Reekie, 

Farewell  to  lewd  Kate, 
Farewell  to  each , 

And  farewell  to  cursed  debt ; 
With  light  heart  and  thin  bi-eeches, 

Humph  crosses  the  main ; 
All  worn  out  to  stitches, 

He  '11  ne'er  come  again. 

Farewell  to  old  Dido, 

Who  sold  him  good  ale  ; 
Her  charms,  like  her  drink, 

For  poor  Humph  were  too  stale ; 
Though  closely  she  urged  liim 

To  marry  and  stay, 
Her  Trojan,  quite  cloyed, 

From  her  sailed  away. 

Farewell  to  James  Campbell, 

Who  played  many  tricks ; 
Humph's  ghost  and  Lochmoidart's  * 

Will  chase  him  to  Styx ; 
Where  in  Charon's  wherry 

He  '11  be  ferried  o'er 
To  Pluto's  dominions, 

'Mongst  rascals  great  store. 

Farewell,  pot-companions. 

Farewell,  all  good  fellows  ; 
Farewell  to  my  anvil, 
V  Files,  pliers,  and  bellows  : 

\  Sails,  fly  to  Jamaica, 

\      -  Where  I  mean  long  to  dwell, 

^  Change  manners  with  climates- 

Dear  Drummond,  farewell.' 

•  Tliis  seems  to  tear  some  reference  to  the  seizure  of  young  Macdonald  of  Kinlochmoidart 
at  Lesmahago  in  1745. 


QUEENSBERRY   HOUSE.  353 

It  is  not  unworthy  of  notice  that  the  publication  of  Dr  Blair's 
Lectures  on  Rhetoric  and  the  Belles-lettres  was  hastened  by 
Claudero,  who,  having  procured  notes  taken  by  some  of  the 
students,  avowed  an  intention  of  giving  these  to  the  world. 
The  reverend  author  states  in  his  preface  that  he  was  induced  to 
publish  the  lectures  in  consequence  of  some  surreptitious  and 
incorrect  copies  finding  their  way  to  the  public ;  but  it  has  not 
hitherto  been  told  that  this  doggerel-monger  was  the  person 
chiefly  concerned  in  bringing  about  that  result. 

Claudero  occasionally  dealt  in  whitewash  as  well  as  blackball, 
and  sometimes  wrote  regular  panegyrics.  An  address  of  this 
kind  to  a  writer  named  Walter  Fergusson,  who  built  St  James's 
Square,  concludes  with  a  strange  association  of  ideas  : 

'  May  Pentland  Hills  pour  forth  their  springs, 
To  water  all  thy  square  ! 
May  Fergussons  still  bless  the  place, 
Both  gay  and  debonnair  ! ' 

When  the  said  square  was  in  progress,  however,  the  water 
seemed  in  no  hurry  to  obey  the  bard's  invocation ;  and  an 
attempt  was  made  to  procure  this  useful  element  by  sinking 
wells  for  it,  despite  the  elevation  of  the  ground.  Mr  Walter 
Scott,  W.S.,  happened  one  day  to  pass  when  Captain  Fergusson 
of  the  royal  navy — a  good  officer,  but  a  sort  of  Commodore 
Trunnion  in  his  manners — was  sinking  a  well  of  vast  depth. 
Upon  Mr  Scott  expressing  a  doubt  if  water  could  be  got  there  : 
'  I  will  get  it,'  quoth  the  captain,  *  though  I  sink  to  hell  for  it ! ' 
*  A  bad  place  for  water,'  was  the  dry  remark  of  the  doubter. 


QUEENSBERRY   HOUSE. 

In  the  Canongate,  on  the  south  side,  is  a  large  gloomy  building, 
enclosed  in  a  court,  and  now  used  as  a  refuge  for  destitute 
persons.     This  was  formerly  the  town  mansion  of  the  Dukes  of 


354  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

Queensbeny,  and  a  scene,  of  course,  of  stately  life  and  high 
political  affairs.  It  was  built  by  the  first  duke,  the  willing 
minister  of  the  last  two  Stuarts — he  who  also  built  Drumlanrig 
Castle  in  Dumfriesshire,  which  he  never  slept  in  but  one  night, 
and  with  regard  to  which  it  is  told  that  he  left  the  accounts  for 
the  building  tied  up  mth  this  inscription  :  '  The  deil  pyke  out 
his  een  that  looks  herein  !'  Duke  William  was  a  noted  money- 
maker and  land-acquirer.  No  little  laird  of  his  neighbourhood 
had  any  chance  with  him  for  the  retention  of  his  family  property. 
He  was  something  still  worse  in  the  eyes  of  the  common  people 
— a  persecutor;  that  is,  one  siding  against  the  Presbyterian 
cause.  There  is  a  story  in  one  of  their  favourite  books  of  his 
having  died  of  the  morbus  pediculosus,  by  way  of  a  judgment 
upon  him  for  his  wickedness.  In  reality,  he  died  of  some 
ordinary  fever.  It  is  also  stated,  from  the  same  authority,  that 
about  the  time  when  his  Grace  died,  a  Scotch  skipper,  being  in 
Sicily,  saw  one  day  a  coach-and-six  driving  to  Mount  Etna, 
while  a  diabolic  voice  exclaimed  :  '  Open  to  the  Duke  of  Drum- 
lanrig ! ' — *  which  proves,  by  the  way,'  says  Mr  Sharpe,  '  that  the 
devil's  porter  is  no  herald.  In  fact,'  adds  this  acute  critic,  '  the 
legend  is  borrowed  from  the  story  of  Antonio  the  Rich,  in 
George  Sandys's  Travels.^  * 

It  appears,  from  family  letters,  that  the  first  duchess  often 
resided  in  the  Canongate  mansion,  while  her  husband  occupied 
Sanquhar  Castle,  The  lady  was  unfortunately  given  to  drink, 
and  there  is  a  letter  of  hers  in  which  she  pathetically  describes 
her  situation  to  a  country  friend,  left  alone  in  Queensberry 
House  with  only  a  few  bottles  of  wine,  one  of  which,  having 
been  drawn,  had  turned  out  sour.  Sour  wine  being  prejudicial 
to  her  health,  it  was  fearful  to  think  of  what  might  prove  the 
quality  of  the  remaining  bottles. 

The  son  of  this  couple,  James,  second  duke,  must  ever  be 
memorable  as  the  main  instrument  in  carrying  through  the 
Union.  His  character  has  been  variously  depicted.  By  Defoe, 
in  his  History  of  the  Union,  it  is  liberally  panegyrised,     '  I  think 

*  Introduction  to  Law's  Memorials,  p.  Ixxx. 


QUEENSBERRY  HOUSE.  355 

I  have,'  says  he,  '  given  demonstrations  to  the  world  that  I  will 
flatter  no  man.'  Yet  he  could  not  refrain  from  extolling  the 
'  prudence,  calmness,  and  temper '  which  the  duke  shewed 
during  that  difficult  crisis.  Unfortunately,  the  author  of 
Robinson  Crusoe,  though  not  a  flatterer,  could  not  insure 
himself  against  the  usual  prepossessions  of  a  partisan.  Boldness 
the  duke  must  certainly  have  possessed,  for  during  the  ferments 
attending  the  parliamentary  proceedings  on  that  occasion,  he 
continued  daily  to  drive  between  his  lodgings  in  Holyrood  and 
the  Parliament  House,  notwithstanding  several  intimations  that 
his  life  was  threatened.  His  Grace's  eldest  son,  James,  was  an 
idiot  of  the  most  unhappy  sort — rabid  and  gluttonous,  and  early 
grew  to  an  immense  height ;  which  is  testified  by  his  coffin  in 
the  family  vault  at  Durisdeer,  still  to  be  seen,  of  great  length, 
and  unomamented  with  the  heraldic  follies  which  bedizen  the 
violated  remains  of  his  relatives.  A  tale  of  mystery  and  horror 
is  preserved  by  tradition  respecting  this  monstrous  being.  While 
the  family  resided  in  Edinburgh,  he  was  always  kept  confined  in 
a  ground  apartment,  in  the  western  wing  of  the  house,  upon  the 
windows  of  which,  till  within  these  few  years,  the  boards  still 
remained  by  which  the  dreadful  receptacle  was  darkened,  to 
prevent  the  idiot  from  looking  out  or  being  seen.  On  the  day 
the  Union  was  passed,  all  Edinburgh  crowded  to  the  Parliament 
Close,  to  await  the  issue  of  the  debate,  and  to  mob  the  chief 
promoters  of  the  detested  measure  on  their  leaving  the  House. 
The  whole  household  of  the  commissioner  went  en  masse,  with 
perhaps  a  somewhat  different  object,  and  among  the  rest  was 
the  man  whose  duty  it  was  to  watch  and  attend  Lord  Drum- 
lanrig.  Two  members  of  the  family  alone  were  left  behind — 
the  madman  himself,  and  a  little  kitchen-boy  who  turned  the 
spit.  The  insane  being,  hearing  everything  unusually  still 
around,  the  house  being  completely  deserted,  and  the  Canongate 
like  a  city  of  the  dead,  and  observing  his  keeper  to  be  absent, 
broke  loose  from  his  confinement,  and  roamed  wildly  through 
the  house.  It  is  supposed  that  the  savoury  odour  of  the  prepar- 
ations for  dinner  led  him  to  the  kitchen,  where  he  found  the 


35 6  TRADITIONS   OF  EDINBURGH. 

little  turnspit  quietly  seated  by  the  fire.  He  seized  the  boy, 
killed  him,  took  the  meat  from  the  fire,  and  spitted  the  body  of 
his  victim,  which  he  half-roasted,  and  was  found  devouring  when 
the  duke,  with  his  domestics,  returned  from  his  triumph.  The 
idiot  survived  his  father  many  years,  though  he  did  not  succeed 
him  upon  his  death  in  171 1,  when  the  titles  devolved  upon 
Charles,  the  younger  brother.  He  is  known  to  have  died  in 
England.  This  horrid  act  of  his  child  was,  according  to  the 
common  sort  of  people,  the  judgment  of  God  upon  him  for  his 
wicked  concern  in  the  Union — the  greatest  blessing,  as  it 
has  happened,  that  ever  was  conferred  upon  Scotland  by  any 
statesman. 

Charles,  third  Duke  of  Queensberry,  who  was  born  in  Queens- 
berry  House,  resided  occasionally  in  it  when  he  visited  Scotland; 
but  as  he  was  much  engaged  in  attending  the  court  during  the 
earlier  part  of  his  life,  his  stay  here  was  seldom  of  long  continu- 
ance. After  his  Grace  and  the  duchess  embroiled  themselves 
with  the  court  (1729),  on  account  of  the  support  which  they 
gave  to  the  poet  Gay,  they  came  to  Scotland,  and  resided  for 
some  time  here.  The  author  of  the  Beggar's  0_pera  accompanied 
them,  and  remained  about  a  month,  part  of  which  was  given  to 
Dumfriesshire.  Tradition  in  Edinburgh  used  to  point  out  an 
attic  in  an  old  house  opposite  to  Queensberry  House,  where,  as 
an  appropriate  abode  for  a  poet,  his  patrons  are  said  to  have 
stowed  him.  It  was  said  he  wrote  the  Beggar's  Opera  there — an 
entirely  gratuitous  assumption.  In  the  progress  of  the  history 
of  his  writings,  nothing  of  consequence  occurs  at  this  time.  He 
had  finished  the  second  part  of  the  opera  a  short  while  before  : 
after  his  return  to  the  south,  he  is  found  engaged  in  'new- 
writing  a  damned  play,  which  he  wrote  several  years  before, 
called  The  Wife  of  Bath;  a  task  which  he  accomplished  while 
living  with  the  Duke  of  Queensberry  in  Oxfordshire,  during  the 
ensuing  months  of  August,  September,  and  October.'  *  It  is 
known,  however,  that  while  in  Edinburgh,  he  haunted  the  shop 
of  Allan  Ramsay,  in  the  Luckenbooths — the  flat  above  that  well- 

•  See  letters  of  Gay,  Swift,  Pope,  and  Arbuthnot,  in  Scott's  edition  of  Swift. 


QUEENSBERRY   HOUSE.  357 

remembered  and  classical  shop  so  long  kept  by  Mr  Creech,  from 
which  issued  the  Mirror,  Lounger,  and  other  works  of  name, 
and  where,  for  a  long  course  of  years,  all  the  literati  of  Edin- 
burgh used  to  assemble  every  day,  like  merchants  at  an 
Exchange.  Here  Ramsay  amused  Gay,  by  pointing  out  to  him 
the  chief  public  characters  of  the  city,  as  they  met  in  the  fore- 
noon at  the  Cross.  Here,  too,  Gay  read  the  Gentle  Shepherd, 
and  studied  the  Scottish  language,  so  that,  upon  his  return  to 
England,  he  was  enabled  to  make  Pope  appreciate  the  beauties 
of  that  delightful  pastoral.  He  is  said  also  to  have  spent  some 
of  his  time  with  the  sons  of  mirth  and  humour  in  an  alehouse 
opposite  to  Queensberry  House,  kept  by  one  Janet  Hall. 
Jemiy  Hc^s,  as  the  place  was  called,  was  a  noted  house  for 
drinking  claret  from  the  butt  within  the  recollection  of  old 
gentlemen  living  in  my  time. 

While  Gay  was  at  Drumlanrig,  he  employed  himself  in  picking 
out  a  great  number  of  the  best  books  from  the  library,  which 
were  sent  to  England,  whether  for  his  own  use  or  the  duke's  is 
not  known. 

Duchess  Catherine  was  a  most  extraordinary  lady,  eccentric 
to  a  degree  undoubtedly  bordering  on  madness.  Her  beauty 
has  been  celebrated  by  Pope  not  in  very  elegant  terms : 

'  Since  Queensberry  to  strip  there 's  no  compelling, 
'Tis  from  a  handmaid  we  must  take  a  Helen.' 

Prior  had,  at  an  early  period  of  her  life,  depainted  her  irrepress- 
ible temper : 

'  Thus  Ktty,  beautiful  and  young, 

And  -wild  as  colt  untamed, 
Bespoke  the  fair  from  whom  she  sprang, 

By  little  rage  inflamed  : 
Inflamed  with  rage  at  sad  restraint, 

Which  wise  mamma  ordained  j 
And  sorely  vexed  to  play  the  saint^ 

Whilst  wit  and  beauty  reigned. 

"  Shall  I  thumb  holy  books,  confined 
With  Abigails  forsaken  ? 


35 8  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

Kitty 's  for  other  things  designed, 

Or  I  am  much  mistaken. 
Must  Lady  Jenny  frislc  about, 

And  visit  with  her  cousins  ? 
At  balls  must  she  make  all  the  rout, 

And  bring  home  hearts  by  dozens  ? 

What  has  she  better,  pray,  than  I  ? 

What  hidden  charms  to  boast. 
That  all  mankind  for  her  should  die. 

Whilst  I  am  scarce  a  toast  ? 
Dearest  mamma,  for  once  let  me, 

Unchained,  my  fortune  try  ; 
I  '11  have  my  earl  as  well  as  she. 

Or  know  the  reason  why. 

I  '11  soon  with  Jenny's  pride  quit  score, 

Make  all  her  lovers  fall ; 
They  '11  grieve  I  was  not  loosed  before. 

She,  I  was  loosed  at  all." 
Fondness  prevailed,  mamma  gave  way  ; 

Kitty,  at  heart's  desire. 
Obtained  the  chariot  for  a  day. 

And  set  the  world  on  fire  ! ' 

It  IS  an  undoubted  fact  that,  before  her  marriage,  she  had 
been  confined  in  a  strait-jacket,  on  account  of  mental  derange- 
ment ;  and  her  conduct  in  married  hfe  was  frequently  such  as 
to  entitle  her  to  a  repetition  of  the  same  treatment.  She  was, 
in  reality,  at  all  times  to  a  certain  extent  insane,  though  the 
politeness  of  fashionable  society,  and  the  flattery  of  her  poetical 
friends,  seem  to  have  succeeded  in  passing  off  her  extravagances 
as  owing  to  an  agreeable  freedom  of  carriage  and  vivacity  of 
mind.  Her  brother  was  as  clever  and  as  mad  as  herself,  and 
used  to  amuse  himself  by  hiding  a  book  in  his  library,  and 
hunting  for  it  after  he  had  forgot  where  it  was  deposited. 

Her  Grace  was  no  admirer  of  Scottish  manners.  One  of 
their  habits  she  particularly  detested — the  custom  of  eating  off 
the  end  of  a  knife.  When  people  dined  with  her  at  Drumlanrig, 
and  began  to  lift  their  food  in  this  manner,  she  used  to  scream 
out,  and  beseech  them  not  to  cut  their  throats ;  and  then  she 


QUEENSBERRY   HOUSE.  359 

would  confound  the  offending  persons  by  sending  them  a  silver 
spoon  or  fork  upon  a  salver.* 

When  in  Scotland,  her  Grace  always  dressed  herself  in  the 
garb  of  a  peasant-girl.  Her  object  seems  to  have  been  to 
ridicule,  and  put  out  of  countenance,  the  stately  dresses  and 
demeanour  of  the  Scottish  gentlewomen  who  visited  her.  One 
evening  some  country  ladies  paid  her  a  visit,  dressed  in  their 
best  brocades,  as  for  some  state  occasion.  Her  Grace  proposed 
a  walk,  and  they  were  of  course  under  the  necessity  of  trooping 
off,  to  the  utter  discomfiture  of  their  starched-up  frills  and 
flounces.  Her  Grace  at  last  pretended  to  be  tired,  sat  down 
upon  the  dirtiest  dunghill  she  could  find,  at  the  end  of  a  farm- 
house, and  saying :  '  Pray,  ladies,  be  seated,'  invited  her  poor 
draggled  companions  to  plant  themselves  round  about  her. 
They  stood  so  much  in  awe  of  her,  that  they  durst  not  refuse  ; 
and  of  course  her  Grace  had  the  satisfaction  of  afterwards 
laughing  at  the  destruction  of  their  silks. 

When  she  went  out  to  an  evening  entertainment,  and  found  a 
tea-equipage  paraded  which  she  thought  too  fine  for  the  rank  of 
the  owner,  she  would  contrive  to  overset  the  table  and  break  the 
china.  The  forced  politeness  of  her  hosts  on  such  occasions, 
and  the  assurances  which  they  made  her  Grace  that  no  harm 
was  done,  &c.  delighted  her  exceedingly. 

Her  custom  of  dressing  like  a  paysanne  once  occasioned  her 
Grace  a  disagreeable  adventure  at  a  review.  On  her  attempting 
to  approach  the  duke,  the  guard,  not  knowing  her  rank  or 
relation   to   him,  pushed   her  rudely   back.      This   threw  her 

*  In  a  letter  from  Gay  to  Swift,  dated  February  15,  1727-S,  we  find  the  subject  illustrated 
as  follows  :  '  As  to  my  favours  from  great  men,  I  am  in  the  same  state  you  left  me  ;  but  I 
am  a  great  deal  happier,  as  I  have  expectations.  The  Duchess  of  Queensberry  has  signal- 
ised her  friendship  to  me  upon  this  occasion  [the  bringing  out  of  the  Beg-gar's  OJierd\  in 
such  a  conspicuous  manner,  that  I  hope  (for  her  sake)  you  will  take  care  to  put  your 
fork  to  all  its  proper  uses,  and  suffer  nobody  for  the  future  to  put  their  knives  in  their 
mouth.' 

In  thg  P.S.  to  a  letter  from  Gay  to  Swift,  dated  Middleton  Stoney,  November  9,  1729, 
Gay  says  :  '  To  the  lady  I  live  with  I  owe  my  life  and  fortune.  Think  of  her  with  respect 
—value  and  esteem  her  as  I  do — and  never  more  despise  a  fork  with  three  prongs.  I  wish, 
too,  you  would  not  eat  from  the  point  of  your  knife.  She  has  so  much  goodness,  virtue,  and 
generosity,  that  if  you  knew  her,  you  would  have  a  pleasure  in  obeying  her  as  I  do.  She 
often  wishes  she  had  known  you.' 


360  TRADITIONS   OF  EDINBURGH. 

into  such  a  passion,  that  she  could  not  be  appeased  till  his 
Grace  assured  her  that  the  men  had  been  all  soundly  flogged 
for  their  insolence. 

An  anecdote  scarcely  less  laughable  is  told  of  her  Grace  as 
occurring  at  court,  where  she  carried  to  the  same  extreme  her 
attachment  to  plain-dealing  and  plain-dressing.  An  edict  had 
been  issued  forbidding  the  ladies  to  appear  at  the  drawing-room 
in  aprons.  This  was  disregarded  by  the  duchess,  whose  rustic 
costume  would  not  have  been  complete  without  that  piece  of 
dress.  On  approaching  the  door,  she  was  stopped  by  the  lord 
in  waiting,  who  told  her  that  he  could  not  possibly  give  her 
Grace  admission  in  that  guise,  when  she,  without  a  moment's 
hesitation,  stripped  off  her  apron,  threw  it  in  his  lordship's  face, 
and  walked  on,  in  her  brown  gown  and  petticoat,  into  the 
brilliant  circle ! 

Her  caprices  were  endless.  At  one  time  when  a  ball  had 
been  announced  at  Drumlanrig,  after  the  company  were  all 
assembled,  her  Grace  took  a  headache,  declared  that  she  could 
bear  no  noise,  and  sat  in  a  chair  in  the  dancing-room,  uttering 
a  thousand  peevish  complaints.  Lord  Drumlanrig,  who  under- 
stood her  humour,  said  :  *  Madam,  I  know  how  to  cure  you ; ' 
and  taking  hold  of  her  immense  elbow-chair,  which  moved  on 
castors,  rolled  her  several  times  backwards  and  forwards  across 
the  saloon,  till  she  began  to  laugh  heartily — after  which  the 
festivities  were  allowed  to  commence. 

The  duchess  certainly,  both  in  her  conversation  and  letters, 
displayed  a  great  degree  of  wit  and  quickness  of  mind.  Yet 
nobody  perhaps,  saving  Gay,  ever  loved  her.  She  seems  to 
have  been  one  of  those  beings  who  are  too  much  feared, 
admired,  or  envied,  to  be  loved. 

The  duke,  on  the  contrary,  who  was  a  man  of  ordinary  mind, 
had  the  affection  and  esteem  of  all.  His  temper  and  dispositions 
were  sweet  and  amiable  in  the  extreme.  His  benevolence, 
extending  beyond  his  fellow-creatures,  was  exercised  even  upon 
his  old  horses,  none  of  which  he  would  ever  permit  to  be  killed 
or  sold.     He  allowed  the  veterans  of  his  stud  free  range  in  some 


QUEENSBERRY   HOUSE.  36 1 

parks  near  Drumlanrig,  where,  retired  from  active  life,  they  got 
leave  to  die  decent  and  natural  deaths.  Upon  his  Grace's 
decease,  however,  in  1778,  these  luckless  pensioners  were  all 
put  up  to  sale  by  his  heartless  successor ;  and  it  was  a  painful 
sight  to  see  the  feeble  and  pampered  animals  forced,  by  their 
new  masters,  to  drag  carts,  &c.  till  they  broke  down  and  died 
on  the  roads  and  in  the  ditches. 

Duke  Charles's  eldest  son.  Lord  Drumlanrig,  was  altogether 
mad.  He  had  contracted  himself  to  one  lady  when  he  married 
another.  The  lady  who  became  his  wife  was  a  daughter  of  the 
Earl  of  Hopetoun,  and  a  most  amiable  woman.  He  loved  her 
tenderly,  as  she  deserved ;  but,  owing  to  the  unfortunate  con- 
tract which  he  had  engaged  in,  they  were  never  happy.  They 
were  often  observed  in  the  beautiful  pleasure-grounds  at  Drum- 
lanrig weeping  bitterly  together.  These  hapless  circumstances 
had  such  a  fatal  effect  upon  him,  that,  during  a  journey  to 
London  in  1754,  he  rode  on  before  the  coach  in  which  the 
duchess  travelled,  and  shot  himself  with  one  of  his  own  pistols. 
It  was  given  out  that  the  pistol  had  gone  off  by  chance. 

There  is  just  one  other  tradition  of  Drumlanrig  to  be  noticed. 
The  castle,  being  a  very  large  and  roomy  mansion,  had  of  course 
a  ghost,  said  to  be  the  spirit  of  a  Lady  Anne  Douglas.  This 
unhappy  phantom  used  to  walk  about  the  house,  terrifying 
everybody,  with  her  head  in  one  hand,  and  her  fan  in  the  other 
—are  we  to  suppose,  fanning  her  face  ? 

On  the  death  of  the  Good  Duke,  as  he  was  called,  in  1778, 
the  title  and  estates  devolved  on  his  cousin,  the  Earl  of  March, 
so  well  remembered  as  a  sporting  character  and  debauchee  of 
the  old  school  by  the  name  of  Old  Q.  In  his  time  Queensberry 
House  was  occupied  by  other  persons,  for  he  had  little  inclina- 
tion to  spend  his  time  in  Scotland.  And  this  brings  to  mind  an 
anecdote  highly  illustrative  of  the  wretchedness  of  such  a  life  as 
his.  When  professing,  towards  the  close  of  his  days,  to  be 
eaten  up  with  ennui,  and  incapable  of  any  longer  taking  an 
interest  in  anything,  it  was  suggested  that  he  might  go  down  to 
his  Scotch  estates  and  live  among  his  tenantry.     '  I  've  tried 


362  TRADITIONS    OF   EDINBURGH. 

that,'  said  the  blase  aristocrat :  'it  is  not  amusing.'  In  1801,  he 
caused  Queensberry  House  to  be  stripped  of  its  ornaments  and 
sold.  With  fifty-eight  fire-rooms,  and  a  gallery  seventy  feet  long, 
besides  a  garden,  it  was  offered  at  the  surprisingly  low  upset  price 
of  ;^9oo.  The  government  purchased  it  for  a  barrack.  Thus 
has  passed  away  the  Douglas  of  Queensberry  from  its  old  place 
in  Edinburgh,  where  doubtless  the  money-making  duke  thought 
it  would  stand  for  ever. 


TENNIS    COURT. 


Early  Theatricals — The  Canongate  Theatre — Digges  and  Mrs  Bellamy — 
A  Theatrical  Riot. 

'  Just  without  the  Water-gate,'  says  Maitland,  '  on  the  eastern 
side  of  the  street,  was  the  Royal  Tennis  Court,  anciently  called 
the  Catchpel  [from  Cache,  a  game  since  called  Fives,  and  a 
favourite  amusement  in  Scotland  so  early  as  the  reign  of  James 
IV.].'  The  house — a  long  narrow  building  with  a  court — was 
burned  down  in  modern  times,  and  rebuilt  for  workshops.  Yet 
the  place  continues  to  possess  some  interest,  as  connected  with 
the  early  and  obscure  history  of  the  stage  in  Scotland,  not  to 
speak  of  the  tennis  itself,  which  was  a  fashionable  amusement  in 
Scotland  in  the  seventeenth  century,  and  here  played  by  the 
Duke  of  York,  Law  the  financial  schemer,  and  other  remarkable 
persons. 

The  first  known  appearance  of  the  post-reformation  theatre  in 
Edinburgh  was  in  the  reign  of  King  James  VI.,  when  several 
companies  came  from  London,  chiefly  for  the  amusement  of  the 
court,  including  one  to  which  Shakspeare  is  known  to  have 
belonged,  though  his  personal  attendance  cannot  be  substan- 
tiated. There  was  no  such  thing,  probably,  as  a  play  acted  in 
Edinburgh  from  the  departure  of  James  in  1603,  till  the  arrival 
of  his  grandson,  the  Duke  of  York,  in  1680. 


EARLY  THEATRICALS.  363 

Threatened  by  the  Whig  party  in  the  House  of  Commons 
with  an  exclusion  from  the  throne  of  England  on  account  of  his 
adherence  to  Popery,  this  prince  made  use  of  his  exile  in 
Scotland  to  conciliate  the  nobles,  and  attach  them  to  his  person. 
His  beautiful  young  wife,  Mary  of  Modena,  and  his  second 
daughter,  the  Lady  A?ine,  assisted,  by  giving  parties  at  the 
palace — where,  by  the  by,  tea  was  now  first  introduced  into 
Scotland.  Easy  and  obliging  in  their  manners,  these  ladies 
revived  the  entertainment  of  the  masque,  and  took  parts  them- 
selves in  the  performance.  At  length,  for  his  own  amusement 
and  that  of  his  friends,  James  had  some  of  his  own  company  of 
players  brought  down  to  Holyrood,  and  established  in  a  little 
theatre,  which  was  fitted  up  in  the  Tennis  Court.  On  this 
occasion  the  remainder  of  the  company  playing  at  Oxford 
apologised  for  the  diminution  of  their  strength  in  the  following 
lines  ^vritten  by  Dryden  : 

'  Discord  and  plots,  which  have  undone  our  age, 
With  the  same  ruin  have  o'erwhelmed  the  stage. 
Our  Iiouse  has  suffered  in  the  common  woe ; 
We  have  been  troubled  with  Scots  rebels  too. 
Our  brethren  have  from  Thames  to  Tweed  departed, 
And  of  our  sisters,  all  the  kinder-hearted 
To  Edinburgh  gone,  or  coached  or  carted. 
Witli  bonny  Blew  cap  there  they  act  all  night, 
For  Scotch  half-crowns — in  English  threepence  hight. 
One  nymph  to  whom  fat  Sir  Jolm  Falstaff  's  lean. 
There,  with  her  single  person,  fills  the  scene. 
Another,  with  long  use  and  age  decayed, 
Died  here  old  woman,  and  there  rose  a  maid. 
Our  trusty  door-keeper,  of  former  time, 
There  struts  and  swaggers  in  heroic  rhyme. 
Tack  but  a  copper  lace  to  drugget  suit, 
And  there  's  a  liero  made  without  dispute  ; 
And  that  which  was  a  capon's  tail  before, 
Becomes  a  plume  for  Indian  emperor. 
But  all  his  subjects,  to  express  the  care 
Of  imitation,  go  like  Indians  bare. 
Laced  linen  tliere  would  be  a  dangerous  thing, 
It  might  perhaps  a  new  rebellion  bring  ; 
The  Scot  who  wore  it  would  be  chosen  king.' 
X 


364  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

We  learn  from  Fountainhall's  Diary,  that  on  the  celebration 
of  the  king's  birthday,  1681,  the  duke  honoured  the  magistrates 
of  the  city  with  his  presence  in  the  theatre — namely,  this  theatre 
in  the  Tennis  Court. 

No  further  glimpse  of  our  city's  theatrical  history  is  obtained 
till  1705,  when  we  find  a  Mr  Abel  announcing  a  concert  in  the 
Tennis  Court,  under  the  patronage  of  the  Duke  of  Argyll,  then 
acting  as  the  queen's  commissioner  to  the  parliament.  It  is 
probable  that  the  concert  was  only  a  cloak  to  some  theatrical 
representation.  This  is  the  more  likely,  from  a  tradition  already 
mentioned  of  some  old  members  of  the  Spendthrift  Club  who 
once  frequented  the  tavern  of  a  Mrs  Hamilton,  whose  husband 
recollected  having  attended  the  theatre  in  the  Tennis  Court  at 
Holyrood  House,  when  the  play  was  The  Spanish  Friar,  and 
many  members  of  the  Union  parliament  were  present  in  the 
house. 

Theatrical  amusements  appear  to  have  been  continued  at  the 
Tennis  Court  in  the  year  17 10,  if  we  are  to  place  any  reliance 
upon  the  following  anecdote :  When  Mrs  Siddons  came  to 
Edinburgh  in  1784,  the  late  Mr  Alexander  Campbell,  author  of 
the  History  of  Scottish  Poetry,  asked  Miss  Pitcairn,  daughter  of 
Dr  Pitcairn,  to  accompany  him  to  one  of  the  representations. 
The  old  lady  refused,  saying,  with  coquettish  vivacity :  '  Laddie, 
Avad  ye  ha'e  an  auld  lass  like  me  to  be  running  after  the  play- 
actors— me  that  hasna  been  at  a  theatre  since  I  gaed  wi'  papa 
to  the  Canongate  in  the  year  te?i  V  The  theatre  was  in  those 
days  encouraged  chiefly  by  such  Jacobites  as  Dr  Pitcairn. 
It  was  denounced  by  the  clergy  as  a  hotbed  of  vice  and  pro- 
fanity. 

After  this,  we  hear  no  more  of  the  theatre  in  the  Tennis 
Court.  The  next  place  where  the  drama  set  up  its  head  was 
in  a  house  in  Carrubber's  Close,  under  the  management  of  an 
Italian  lady  styled  Signora  Violante,  who  paid  two  visits  to 
Edinburgh.  After  her  came,  in  1726,  one  Tony  Alston,  who 
set  up  his  scenes  in  the  same  house,  and  whose  first  prologue 
was  written  by  Ramsay :  it  may  be  found  in  the  works  of  that 


CANONGATE   THEATRE.  365 

poet.  In  1727,  the  Society  of  High  Constables,  of  which 
Ramsay  Avas  then  a  member,  endeavoured  to  'suppress  the 
abominable  stage-plays  lately  set  up  by  Anthony  Alston.'* 
Mr  Alston  played  for  a  season  or  two,  under  the  fulminations 
of  the  clergy,  and  a  prosecution  on  their  part  in  the  Court  of 
Session. 

CANONGATE   THEATRE. 

From  a  period  subsequent  to  1727  till  after  the  year  1753, 
the  Tailors'  Hall  in  the  Cowgatet  was  used  as  a  theatre  by 
itinerating  companies,  who  met  with  some  success,  notwith- 
standing the  incessant  hostility  of  the  clergy.  It  was  a  house 
which,  in  theatrical  phrase,  could  hold  from  ;^4o  to  ;^45-  A 
split  in  the  company  here  concerned  led  to  the  erection,  in 
1746-7,  of  a  theatre  at  the  bottom  of  a  close  in  the  Canongate, 
nearly  opposite  to  the  head  of  New  Street.  This  house,  capable 
of  holding  about  ;^7o — the  boxes  being  half-a-crown,  and  pit 
one-and-sixpence — was  for  several  years  the  scene  of  good  acting 
under  Lee,  Digges,  Mrs  Bellamy,  and  Mrs  Ward.  We  learn 
from  Henry  Mackenzie  that  the  tragedy  of  Douglas,  which  first 
appeared  here  in  1756,  was  most  respectably  acted — the  two 
ladies  above  mentioned  playing  respectively  Young  Norval  and 
Lady  Randolph.  The  personal  elegance  of  Digges — under- 
stood to  be  the  natural  son  of  a  man  of  rank — and  the  beauty 
of  Mrs  Bellamy,  were  a  theme  of  interest  amongst  old  people 
fifty  years  ago ;  but  their  scandalous  life  was  of  course  regarded 
with  horror  by  the  mass  of  respectable  society.  They  lived  in  a 
small  country-house  at  Bonnington,  between  Edinburgh  and 
Leith.     It  is  remembered  that  Mrs  Bellamy  was  extremely  fond 

*  Record  of  that  Society. 

t  The  date  over  the  exterior  gateway  of  the  Tailors'  Hall,  towards  the  Cowgate,  is  1644  ; 
but  it  is  ascertained  that  the  corporation  had  its  hall  at  this  place  at  an  earlier  period.  An 
assembly  of  between  two  and  three  hundred  clergymen  was  held  here  on  Tuesday  the  27th 
of  February  1638,  in  order  to  consider  the  National  Covenant,  which  was  presented  to  the 
public  next  day  in  the  Greyfriars  Church.  We  are  informed  by  the  Earl  of  Rothes,  in  his 
Relations  of  the  transactions  of  this  period,  in  which  he  bore  so  distinguished  a  part,  that 
some  few  objected  to  certain  points  in  it;  but  being  taken  aside  into  the  garden  attached  to 
this  hall,  and  there  lectured  on  the  necessity  of  mutual  concession  for  the  sake  of  the 
general  cause,  they  were  soon  brought  to  give  their  entire  assent. 


366  TRADITIONS    OF   EDINBURGH. 

of  singing-birds,  and  kept  many  about  her.  When  emigrating  to 
Glasgow,  she  had  her  feathered  favourites  carried  by  a  porter  all 
the  way,  that  they  might  not  suffer  from  the  jolting  of  a  carriage. 
Scotch  people  wondered  to  hear  of  ten  guineas  being  expended 
on  this  occasion.  Persons  under  the  social  ban  for  their  irregular 
lives  often  win  the  love  of  individuals  by  their  benevolence  and 
sweetness  of  disposition — qualities,  it  is  remarked,  not  unlikely 
to  have  been  partly  concerned  in  their  first  trespasses.  This 
was  the  case  with  Mrs  Bellamy.  Her  waiting-maid,  Annie 
Waterstone,  who  is  mentioned  in  her  Memoirs,  lived  many 
years  after  in  Edinburgh,  and  continued  to  the  last  to  adore 
the  memory  of  her  mistress.  Nay,  she  was,  from  this  cause, 
a  zealous  friend  of  all  kinds  of  players,  and  never  would  allow  a 
slighting  remark  upon  them  to  pass  unreproved.  It  was  curious 
to  find,  in  a  poor  old  Scotchwoman  of  the  humbler  class,  such  a 
sympathy  with  the  follies  and  eccentricities  of  the  children  of 
Thespis. 

While  under  the  temporary  management  of  two  Edinburgh 
citizens  extremely  ill  qualified  for  the  charge — one  of  them,  by 
the  by,  a  Mr  David  Beatt,  who  had  read  the  rebel  proclamations 
from  the  Cross  in  1745 — a  sad  accident  befell  the  Canongate 
playhouse.  Dissensions  of  a  dire  kind  had  broken  out  in  the 
company.  The  public,  as  usual,  was  divided  between  them. 
Two  classes  of  persons — the  gentlemen  of  the  bar,  and  the 
students  of  the  university* — were  especially  zealous  as  partisans. 
Things  were  at  that  pass  when  a  trivial  incident  will  precipitate 
them  to  the  most  fearful  conclusion.  One  night,  when  Havilct 
was  the  play,  a  riot  took  place  of  so  desperate  a  description,  that 
at  length  the  house  was  set  on  fire.  It  being  now  necessary  for 
the  authorities  to  interfere,  the  Town-guard  was  called  forth, 
and  marched  to  the  scene  of  disturbance ;  but  though  many  of 
that  veteran  corps  had  faced  the  worst  at  Blenheim  and  Dettin- 
gen,  they  felt  it  as  a  totally  different  thing  to  be  brought  to 
action  in  a  place  which  they  regarded  as  a  peculiar  domain  of 

*  Maitland,  in  his  History  of  Edinh2irgk,  1753,  says  that  the  encouragement  given  to  the 
diversions  at  this  house  'is  so  very  great,  'tis  to  be  feared  it  will  terminate  in  the  dcsintction 
cf  the  uniz'ersiiy.     Such  diversions,'  he  adds,  '  are  noways  becoming  a  seat  of  the  Muses-' 


CANONGATE   THEATRE.  367 

the  Father  of  Evil.  When  ordered,  therefore,  by  their  com- 
mander to  advance  into  the  house  and  across  the  stage,  the 
poor  fellows  fairly  stopped  short  amidst  the  scenes,  the  glaring 
colours  of  which  at  once  surprised  and  terrified  them.  Indig- 
nant at  their  pusillanimity,  the  bold  captain  seized  a  musket, 
and  placing  himself  in  an  attitude  equal  to  anything  that  had 
ever  appeared  on  those  boards,  exclaimed  :  '  Now,  my  lads, 
follow  meP  But  just  at  the  moment  that  he  was  going  to  rush 
on  and  charge  the  rioters,  a  trap-door  on  which  he  trod  gave 
way,  and  in  an  instant  the  heroic  leader  had  sunk  out  of  sight, 
as  if  by  magic.  This  was  too  much  for  the  excited  nerves  of 
the  guard;  they  immediately  vacated  the  house,  leaving  the 
devil  to  make  his  own  of  it ;  and  accordingly  it  was  completely 
destroyed.  It  is  added  that,  when  the  captain  by  and  by 
reappeared,  they  received  him  in  the  quality  of  a  gentleman  from 
the  other  world ;  nor  could  they  all  at  once  be  undeceived,  even 
when  he  cursed  them  in  vigorous  Gaelic  for  a  pack  of  cowardly 
scoundrels. 

The  Canongate  theatre  revived  for  a  short  time,  and  had  the 
honour  to  be  the  first  house  in  our  city  in  which  the  drama  was 
acted  with  a  licence.  It  was  opened  with  this  privilege  by  Mr 
Ross  on  the  9th  December  1767,  when  the  play  was  The  Earl 
of  Essex,  and  a  general  prologue  was  spoken,  the  composition  of 
James  Boswell.  Soon  after,  being  deserted  for  the  present 
building  in  the  New  Town,  it  fell  into  ruin ;  in  which  state  it 
formed  the  subject  of  a  mock  elegy  to  the  muse  of  Robert 
Fergusson.  The  reader  will  perhaps  be  amused  with  the  fol- 
lowing extract  from  that  poem  : 

'  Can  I  contemplate  on  those  dreary  scenes 
Of  mouldering  desolation,  and  forbid 
The  voice  elegiac,  and  the  falHng  tear  ! 
No  more  from  box  to  box  the  basket,  piled 
With  oranges  as  radiant  as  the  spheres, 
Shall  with  their  luscious  virtues  charm  the  sense 
Of  taste  or  smell.     No  more  the  gaudy  beau, 
With  handkerchief  in  lavender  well  drenched, 
Or  bergamot,  or  rose-waters  pure. 


368  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

With  flavoriferous  sweets  shall  chase  away 

The  pestilential  fumes  of  vulgar  cits, 

Who,  in  impatience  for  the  curtain's  rise, 

Amused  the  lingering  moments,  and  applied 

Thirst-quenching  porter  to  their  parched  lips. 

Alas  !  how  sadly  altered  is  the  scene  ! 

For  lo  !  those  sacred  walls,  that  late  were  brushed 

Ey  rustling  silks  and  waving  capuchines. 

Are  now  become  the  sport  of  wrinkled  Time  ! 

Those  walls  that  late  have  echoed  to  the  voice 

Of  stern  King  Richard,  to  the  seat  transformed 

Of  crawling  spiders  and  detested  moths. 

Who  in  the  lonely  crevices  reside. 

Or  gender  in  the  beams,  that  have  upheld 

Gods,  demigods,  and  all  the  joyous  crew 

Of  thunderers  in  the  galleries  above.' 


MARIONVILLE— STORY  OF  CAPTAIN  MACRAE. 

Between  the  eastern  suburbs  of  Edinburgh  and  the  village  of 
Restalrig  stands  a  solitary  house  named  Marionville,  enclosed 
in  a  shrubbery  of  no  great  extent,  surrounded  by  high  walls. 
Whether  it  be  that  the  place  has  become  dismal  in  consequence 
of  the  rise  of  a  noxious  fen  in  its  neighbourhood,  or  that  the 
tale  connected  with  it  acts  upon  the  imagination,  I  cannot 
pretend  to  decide,  but  unquestionably  there  is  about  the  house 
an  air  of  depression  and  melancholy  such  as  could  scarcely  fail 
to  strike  the  most  unobservant  passenger.  Yet,  in  1790,  this 
mansion  was  the  abode  of  a  gay  and  fashionable  family,  who, 
amongst  other  amusements,  indulged  in  that  of  private  theatricals, 
and  in  this  line  were  so  highly  successful,  that  admission  to  the 
Marionville  theatre  became  a  privilege  for  which  the  highest  in 
the  land  would  contend.  Mr  Macrae,  the  head  of  this  family, 
was  a  man  of  good  fortune,  being  the  proprietor  of  an  estate  in 


STORY   OF   CAPTAIN   MACRAE.  369 

Dumfriesshire,  and  also  of  good  connections — the  Earl  of  Glen- 
cairn,  whom  Burns  has  so  much  celebrated,  being  his  cousin, 
while  by  his  mother  he  was  nearly  related  to  Viscount  Fermoy 
and  the  celebrated  Sir  Boyle  Roach.  He  had  been  for  some 
years  retired  from  the  Irish  Carabiniers,  and  being  still  in  the 
prime  of  life,  he  was  thinking  of  again  entering  the  army,  when 
the  incident  which  I  am  about  to  relate  took  place.  He  was 
a  man  of  gentlemanlike  accomplishments  and  manners,  of  a 
generous  and  friendly  disposition,  but  marked  by  a  keen  and 
imperious  sense  of  the  deference  due  to  a  gentleman,  and  a  heat 
of  temper  which  was  apt  to  make  him  commit  actions  of  which 
he  afterwards  bitterly  repented.  After  the  unfortunate  affair 
which  ended  his  career  in  Scotland,  the  public,  who  never  make 
nice  distinctions  as  to  the  character  of  individuals,  adopted  the 
idea  that  he  was  as  inhumane  as  rash,  and  he  was  reported  to 
be  an  experienced  duellist.  But  here  he  was  greatly  misrepre- 
sented. Mr  Macrae  would  have  shrunk  from  a  deliberate  act 
of  cruelty ;  and  the  only  connection  he  had  ever  had  with  single 
combat,  was  in  the  way  of  endeavouring  to  reconcile  friends  who 
had  quarrelled — an  object  in  which  he  was  successful  on  several 
memorable  occasions.  But  the  same  man — whom  all  that  really 
knew  him  allowed  to  be  a  delightful  companion  and  kind-hearted 
man — was  liable  to  be  transported  beyond  the  bounds  of  reason 
by  casual  and  trivial  occurrences.  A  messenger  of  the  law 
having  arrested  the  Rev.  Mr  Cunningham,  brother  of  the  Earl 
of  Glencairn,  for  debt,  as  he  was  passing  with  a  party  from  the 
drawing-room  to  the  dining-room  at  Drumsheugh  House,  Mr 
Macrae  threw  the  man  over  the  stair.  He  was  prompted  to 
this  act  by  indignation  at  the  affront  which  he  conceived  his 
cousin,  as  a  gentleman,  had  received  from  a  common  man.  But 
soon  after,  when  it  was  represented  to  him  that  every  other 
means  of  inducing  Mr  Cunningham  to  settle  his  debt  had  failed, 
and  when  he  learned  that  the  messenger  had  suffered  severe 
injury,  he  went  to  him,  made  him  a  hearty  apology,  and  agreed 
to  pay  three  hundred  guineas  by  way  of  compensation.  He  had 
himself  allowed  a  debt  due  to  a  tailor  to  remain  too  long  unpaid, 


370  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

and  the  consequence  was,  that  he  received  a  summons  for  it 
before  the  Sheriff-court.  With  this  document  in  his  hand,  he 
called,  in  a  state  of  great  excitement,  upon  his  law-agent,  to 
whom  he  began  to  read :  '  Archibald  Cockbum  of  Cockpen, 
sheriff-depute,'  &c.  till  he  came  to  a  passage  which  declared  that 
'  he,  the  said  James  Macrae,  had  been  oft  and  diverse  times 
desired  and  required,'  &c.  'The  greatest  lie  ever  uttered!'  he 
exclaimed.  *  He  had  never  heard  a  word  of  it  before;  he  would 
instantly  go  to  the  sheriff  and  horsewhip  him.'  The  agent  had 
at  the  time  letters  of  horning  against  a  very  worthy  baronet 
lying  upon  his  table — that  is  to  say,  a  document  in  which  the 
baronet  was  denounced  as  a  rebel  to  the  king,  according  to  a 
form  of  the  law  of  Scotland,  for  faiHng  to  pay  his  debt.  The 
agent  took  up  this,  and  coolly  began  to  read :  '  George  III.  by 
the  grace  of  God,'  &c.  Macrae  at  once  saw  the  application, 
and  fell  a-laughing  at  his  own  folly,  saying  he  would  go  directly 
and  give  the  sheriff  tickets  for  the  play  at  Marionville,  which  he 
and  his  family  had  requested.  It  will  be  seen  that  the  fault  of 
this  unfortunate  gentleman  was  heat  of  temper,  not  a  savage 
disposition ;  but  what  fault  can  be  more  fatal  than  heat  of 
temper  ? 

Mr  Macrae  was  married  to  an  accomplished  lady,  Maria 
CeciHa  le  Maitre,  daughter  of  the  Baroness  Nolken,  wife  of  the 
Swedish  ambassador.  They  occasionally  resided  in  Paris,  with 
Mrs  Macrae's  relations,  particularly  with  her  cousin,  Madame  de 
la  Briche,  whose  private  theatricals  in  her  elegant  house  at  the 
Marais  were  the  models  of  those  aftenvards  instituted  at  Marion- 
ville. It  may  not  be  unworthy  of  notice  that,  amongst  their 
fellow-performers  at  Madame  de  la  Briche's,  was  the  celebrated 
Abbd  Sieyes.  When  Mr  Macrae  and  his  l^dy  set  up  their 
theatre  at  Marionville,  they  both  took  characters,  he  appearing 
to  advantage  in  such  parts  as  that  of  Dionysius  in  the  Grecian 
Daughter,  and  she  in  the  first  line  of  female  parts  in  genteel 
comedy.  Sir  David  Kinloch  and  a  Mr  Justice  were  their  best 
male  associates  3  and  the  chief  female  performer,  after  Mrs 
Macrae  herself,  was  Mrs  Carruthers  of  Dormont,  a  daughter  of 


STORY   OF   CAPTAIN   MACRAE.  371 

the  celebrated  artist  Paul  Sandby.  Wlien  all  due  deduction  is 
made  for  the  efifects  of  complaisance,  there  seems  to  remain 
undoubted  testimony  that  these  performances  involved  no  small 
amount  of  talent. 

In  Mr  and  Mrs  Macrae's  circle  of  visiting  acquaintance,  and 
frequent  spectators  of  the  Marionville  theatricals,  were  Sir 
George  Ramsay  of  Bamff  and  his  lady.  Sir  George  had  recently 
returned,  with  an  addition  to  his  fortune,  from  India,  and  was 
now  settling  himself  down  for  the  remainder  of  life  in  his  native 
country.  I  have  seen  original  letters  between  the  two  families, 
stiewing  that  they  lived  on  the  most  friendly  terms,  and  enter- 
tained the  highest  esteem  for  each  other.  One  written  by  Lady 
Ramsay  to  Mrs  Macrae,  from  Sir  George's  country-seat  in  Perth- 
shire, commences  thus  :  '  My  dear  friend,  I  have  just  time  to 
write  you  a  few  lines  to  say  how  much  I  long  to  hear  from  you, 
and  to  assure  you  how  sincerely  I  love  you.'  Her  ladyship 
adds  :  '  I  am  now  enjoying  rural  retirement  with  Sir  George, 
who  is  really  so  good  and  indulgent,  that  I  am  as  happy  as  the 
gayest  scenes  could  make  me.  He  joins  me  in  kind  comphments 
to  you  and  Mr  Macrae,'  &c.  How  deplorable  that  social  afiec- 
tions,  which  contribute  so  much  to  make  life  pass  agreeably, 
should  be  liable  to  a  wild  upbreak  from  perhaps  some  trivial 
cause,  not  in  itself  worthy  of  a  moment's  regard,  and  only 
rendered  of  consequence  by  the  sensitiveness  of  pride,  and  a 
deference  to  false  and  worldly  maxims  ! 

The  source  of  the  quarrel  between  Mr  Macrae  and  Sir  George 
was  of  a  kind  almost  too  mean  and  ridiculous  to  be  spoken  of. 
On  the  evening  of  the  yth  April  1790,  the  former  gentleman 
handed  a  lady  out  of  the  Edinburgh  theatre,  and  endeavoured 
to  get  a  chair  for  her,  in  which  she  might  be  conveyed  home. 
Seeing  two  men  approaching  through  the  crowd  with  one,  he 
called  to  ask  if  it  was  disengaged,  to  which  the  men  replied 
with  a  distinct  affirmative.  As  Mr  Macrae  handed  the  lady 
forward  to  put  her  into  it,  a  footman,  in  a  violent  manner,  seized 
hold  of  one  of  the  poles,  and  insisted  that  it  was  engaged  for  his 
mistress.     The  man  seemed  disordered  by  liquor,  and  it  was 


372  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

afterwards  distinctly  made  manifest  that  he  was  acting  without 
the  guidance  of  reason.  His  lady  had  gone  home  some  time 
before,  while  he  was  out  of  the  way :  he  was  not  aware  of  this, 
and,  under  a  confused  sense  of  duty,  he  was  now  eager  to 
obtain  a  chair  for  her,  but  in  reality  had  not  bespoken  that 
upon  which  he  laid  hold.  Mr  Macrae,  annoyed  at  the  man's 
pertinacity  at  such  a  moment,  rapped  him  over  the  knuckles 
with  a  short  cane,  to  make  him  give  way ;  on  which  the  servant 
called  him  a  scoundrel,  and  gave  him  a  push  on  the  breast. 
Incensed  overmuch  by  this  conduct,  Mr  Macrae  struck  him 
smartly  over  the  head  with  his  cane,  on  which  the  man  cried  out 
worse  than  before,  and  moved  off.  Mr  Macrae  following  him, 
repeated  his  blows  two  or  three  times,  but  only  with  that  degree 
of  force  which  he  thought  needful  for  a  chastisement.  In  the 
meantime,  the  lady  whom  Mr  M^acrae  had  handed  out  got  into 
a  different  chair,  and  was  carried  off.  Some  of  the  bystanders 
seeing  a  gentleman  beating  a  servant,  cried  shame,  and  shewed 
a  disposition  to  take  part  with  the  latter ;  but  there  were  indivi- 
duals present  who  had  observed  all  the  circumstances,  and  who 
felt  differently.  One  gentleman  afterwards  gave  evidence  that 
he  had  been  insulted  by  the  servant,  at  an  earlier  period  of  the 
evening,  in  precisely  the  same  manner  as  Mr  Macrae,  and  that 
the  man's  conduct  had  throughout  been  rude  and  insolent,  a 
consequence  apparently  of  drunkenness. 

Learning  that  the  servant  was  in  the  employment  of  Lady 
Ramsay,  Mr  Macrae  came  into  town  next  day,  full  of  anxiety  to 
obviate  any  unpleasant  impression  which  the  incident  might 
have  made  upon  her  mind.  Meeting  Sir  George  in  the  street, 
he  expressed  to  him  his  concern  on  the  subject,  when  Sir  George 
said,  lightly,  that  the  man  being  his  lady's  footman,  he  did  not 
feel  any  concern  in  the  matter.  Mr  Macrae  then  went  to 
apologise  to  Lady  Ramsay,  whom  he  found  sitting  for  her 
portrait  in  the  lodgings  of  the  young  artist  Raeburn,  afterwards 
so  highly  distinguished.  It  has  been  said  that  he  fell  on  his 
knees  before  the  lady,  to  entreat  her  pardon  for  what  he  had 
done  to  her  servant.     Certainly  he  left  her  with  the  impression 


STORY  OF   CAPTAIN  MACRAE.  373 

that  he  had  no  reason  to  expect  a  quarrel  between  himself  and 
Sir  George  on  account  of  what  had  taken  place. 

James  Merry — this  was  the  servant's  name — had  been 
wounded  in  the  head,  but  not  severely.  The  injuries  which 
he  had  sustained,  though  nothing  can  justify  the  violence  which 
inflicted  them,  were  only  of  such  a  nature  as  a  few  days  of 
confinement  would  have  healed.  Such,  indeed,  was  the  express 
testimony  given  by  his  medical  attendant,  Mr  Benjamin  Bell. 
There  was,  however,  a  strong  feeling  amongst  his  class  against 
Macrae,  who  was  informed,  in  an  anonymous  letter,  that  a 
hundred  and  seven  men-servants  had  agreed  to  have  some 
revenge  upon  him.  Merry  himself  had  determined  to  institute 
legal  proceedings  against  Mr  Macrae  for  the  recovery  of  damages. 
A  process  was  commenced,  by  the  issue  of  a  summons  which 
Mr  Macrae  received  on  the  12  th.  Wounded  to  the  quick  by 
this  procedure,  and  smarting  under  the  insolence  of  the  anony- 
mous letter,  Mr  Macrae  wrote  next  day  a  note  to  Sir  George 
Ramsay,  in  which,  addressing  him  without  any  term  of  friendly 
regard,  he  demanded  that  either  Merry  should  drop  the  prose- 
cution, or  that  his  master  should  turn  him  off.  Sir  George 
temperately  replied,  '  that  he  had  only  now  heard  of  the  prose- 
cution for  the  first  time ;  that  the  man  met  with  no  encourage- 
ment from  him  ;  and  that  he  hoped  that  Mr  Macrae,  on  further 
consideration,  would  not  think  it  incumbent  on  him  to  interfere, 
especially  as  the  man  was  at  present  far  from  being  well.' 

On  the  same  evening  Mr  Amory,  a  military  friend  of  Mr 
Macrae,  called  upon  Sir  George  with  a  second  note  from  that 
gentleman,  once  more  insisting  on  the  man  being  turned  off,  and 
stating  that,  in  the  event  of  his  refusal,  Mr  Amory  was  empowered 
to  communicate  his  opinion  of  his  conduct.  Sir  George  did 
refuse,  on  the  plea  that  he  had  yet  seen  no  good  reason  for  his 
discharging  the  servant ;  and  Mr  Amory  then  said  it  was  his 
duty  to  convey  Mr  Macrae's  opinion,  which  was,  *  that  Sir 
George's  conduct  had  not  been  that  of  a  gentleman.'  Sir 
George  then  said  that  further  conversation  was  unnecessary ;  all 
that  remained  was  to  agree  upon  a  place  of  meeting.     They  met 


374  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

again  that  evening  at  a  tavern,  where  Mr  Amory  informed  Sir 
George  that  it  was  Mr  Macrae's  wish  that  they  should  meet, 
properly  attended,  next  day  at  twelve  o'clock  at  Ward's  Inn,  on 
the  borders  of  Musselburgh  Links. 

The  parties  met  there  accordingly,  Mr  Macrae  being  attended 
by  Captain  Amory,  and  Sir  George  Ramsay  by  Sir  William 
Maxwell ;  Mr  Benjamin  Bell,  the  surgeon,  being  also  of  the 
party.  Mr  Macrae  had  brought  an  additional  friend,  a  Captain 
Haig,  to  favour  them  with  his  advice,  but  not  to  act  formally  as 
a  second.  The  two  parties  being  in  different  rooms,  Sir  William 
Maxwell  came  into  that  occupied  by  Mr  Macrae,  and  proposed 
that,  if  Mr  Macrae  would  apologise  for  the  intemperate  style  of 
his  letters  demanding  the  discharge  of  the  servant,  Sir  George 
would  grant  his  request,  and  the  affair  would  end.  Mr  Macrae 
answered  that  he  would  be  most  happy  to  comply  with  this 
proposal  if  his  friends  thought  it  proper;  but  he  must  abide 
by  their  decision.  The  question  being  put  to  Captain  Haig, 
he  answered,  in  a  deliberate  manner :  *  It  is  altogether  impos- 
sible ;  Sir  George  must,  in  the  first  place,  turn  off  his  servant, 
and  Mr  Macrae  will  then  apologise.'  Hearing  this  speech, 
equally  marked  by  wrong  judgment  and  wrong  feeling,  Macrae, 
according  to  the  testimony  of  Mr  Bell,  shed  tears  of  anguish. 
The  parties  then  walked  to  the  beach,  and  took  their  places  in 
the  usual  manner.  On  the  word  being  given.  Sir  George  took 
deliberate  aim  at  Macrae,  the  neck  of  whose  coat  was  grazed  by 
his  bullet.  Macrae  had,  if  his  own  solemn  asseveration  is  to  be 
believed,  intended  to  fire  in  the  air;  but  when  he  found  Sir 
George  aiming  thus  at  his  life,  he  altered  his  resolution,  and 
brought  his  antagonist  to  the  ground  with  a  mortal  wound  in  the 
body. 

There  was  the  usual  consternation  and  unspeakable  distress. 
Mr  Macrae  went  up  to  Sir  George  and  *  told  him  that  he  was 
sincerely  afflicted  at  seeing  him  in  that  situation.'*  It  was  with 
difficulty,  and  only  at  the  urgent  request  of  Sir  William  Maxwell, 
that  he  could  be  induced  to  quit  the  field.     Sir  George  lingered 

*  Letter  of  Captain  Amory,  MS. 


STORY   OF   CAPTAIN   MACRAE.  375 

for  two  days.  The  event  occasioned  a  great  sensation  in  the 
public  mind,  and  a  very  unfavourable  view  was  generally  taken 
of  Mr  Macrae's  conduct.  It  was  given  out,  that  during  a  con- 
siderable interval,  while  in  expectation  of  the  duel  taking  place, 
he  had  practised  pistol-shooting  in  his  garden  at  a  barber's 
block ;  and  he  was  also  said  to  have  been  provided  with  a  pair 
of  pistols  of  a  singularly  apt  and  deadly  character;  the  truth 
being,  that  the  interval  was  a  brief  one,  his  hand  totally  unskilled 
in  shooting,  and  the  pistols  a  bad  brass-mounted  pair,  hastily 
furnished  by  Amory.  We  have  Amory's  testimony  that,  as  they 
were  pursuing  their  journey  to  another  country,  he  was  constantly 
bewailing  the  fate  of  Sir  George  Ramsay,  remarking  how 
unfortunate  it  was  that  he  took  so  obstinate  a  view  about  the 
servant's  case.  The  demand,  he  said,  was  one  which  he  would 
have  thought  it  necessary  to  comply  with.  He  had  asked  Sir 
George  nothing  but  what  he  would  have  done  had  it  been  his 
own  case.  This  is  so  consonant  with  what  appears  otherwise 
respecting  his  character,  that  we  cannot  doubt  it.  It  is  only  to 
be  lamented  that  he  should  not  have  made  the  demand  in  terms 
more  calculated  to  lead  to  compliance. 

The  death  of  an  amiable  man  under  such  deplorable  circum- 
stances roused  the  most  zealous  vigilance  on  the  part  of  the  law 
authorities;  but  Mr  Macrae  and  his  second  succeeded  in 
reaching  France.  A  summons  was  issued  for  his  trial,  but  he 
was  advised  not  to  appear,  and  accordingly  sentence  of  outlawry 
was  passed  against  him.  The  servant's  prosecution  meanwhile 
went  on,  and  was  ultimately  decided  against  Mr  Macrae, 
although,  on  a  cool  perusal  of  the  evidence  on  both  sides,  there 
appears  to  me  the  clearest  proof  of  Merry  having  been  the  first 
aggressor.  Mr  Macrae  lived  in  France  till  the  progress  of  the 
Revolution  forced  him  to  go  to  Altona.  When  time  seemed  to 
have  a  little  softened  matters  against  him,  he  took  steps  to 
ascertain  if  he  could  safely  return  to  his  native  country.  It  was 
decided  by  counsel  that  he  could  not.  They  held  that  his 
case  entirely  wanted  the  extenuating  circumstance  which  was 
necessary — ^his  having  to   contemplate   degradation   if  he  did 


376  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

not  challenge.  He  was  under  no  such  danger;  so  that,  from 
his  letters  to  Sir  George  Ramsay,  he  appeared  to  have  forced  on 
the  duel  purely  for  revenge.  He  came  to  see  the  case  in  this 
light  himself,  and  was  obliged  to  make  up  his  mind  to  perpetual 
self-banishment.  He  survived  thirty  years.  A  gentleman  of  my 
acquaintance,  who  had  kno'wn  him  in  early  life  in  Scotland,  was 
surprised  to  meet  him  one  day  in  a  Parisian  coffee-house  after 
the  peace  of  1814 — the  wreck  or  ghost  of  the  handsome 
sprightly  man  he  had  once  been.  The  comfort  of  his  home, 
his  country,  and  friends,  the  use  of  his  talents  to  all  these,  had 
been  lost,  and  himself  obliged  to  lead  the  life  of  a  condemned 
Cain,  all  through  the  one  fault  of  a  fiery  temper. 


ALISON    SQUARE. 


This  is  a  large  mass  of  building  between  Nicolson  Square  and 
the  Potterrow,  in  the  south  side  of  the  town.  It  was  built  about 
the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  century,  upon  venture,  by  one 
Colin  Alison,  a  joiner,  who  in  after-life  was  much  reduced  in  his 
circumstances,  not  improbably  in  consequence  of  this  large 
speculation.  In  his  last  days  he  spent  some  of  his  few  remain- 
ing shillings  in  the  erection  of  two  boards,  at  different  parts  of 
his  buildings,  whereon  was  represented  a  globe  in  the  act  of 
falling,  with  this  inscription  : 

'  If  Fortune  smile,  be  not  puffed  up, 
And  if  it  frown,  be  not  dismayed  ;    . 
For  Providence  govemetli  all, 
Although  the  world 's  turned  upside  down.' 

Alison  Square  has  enjoyed  some  little  connection  with  the 
Scottish  muses.  It  was  in  the  house  of  a  Miss  Nimmo,  in  this 
place,  that  Burns  met  Clarinda.  It  would  amuse  the  reader  of 
the  ardent  letters  which  passed  between  these  two  kindred  soulS; 


ALISON   SQUARE.  377 

to  visit  the  plain,  small,  dusky  house  in  which  the  lady  lived  at 
that  time,  and  where  she  received  several  visits  of  the  poet.  It 
is  situated  in  the  adjacent  humble  street  called  the  Potterrow, 
the  first  floor  over  the  passage  into  General's  Entry,  accessible 
by  a  narrow  spiral  stair  from  the  court.  A  little  parlour,  a  bed- 
room, and  a  kitchen,  constituted  the  accommodations  of  Mrs 
M'Lehose;  now  the  residence  of  two,  if  not  three  families  in  the 
extreme  of  humble  life.  Here  she  lived  with  a  couple  of  infant 
children,  a  young  and  beautiful  woman,  blighted  in  her  prospects 
in  consequence  of  an  unhappy  marriage  (her  husband  having 
deserted  her,  after  using  her  barbarously),  yet  cheerful  and 
buoyant,  through  constitutional  good  spirits  and  a  rational 
piety.  To  understand  her  friendship  with  Burns,  and  the 
meaning  of  their  correspondence,  it  was  almost  necessary  to 
have  known  the  woman.  Seeing  her,  and  hearing  her  converse, 
even  in  advanced  life,  one  could  penetrate  the  whole  mysteiy 
very  readily,  in  appreciating  a  spirit  unusually  gay,  frank,  and 
emotional.  The  perfect  innocence  of  the  woman's  nature  was 
evident  at  once ;  and  by  her  friends  it  was  never  doubted. 

In  Alison  Square  Thomas  Campbell  lived  while  composing 
his  Pleasures  of  Hope.  The  place  where  any  deathless  com- 
position took  its  shape  from  the  author's  brain  is  worthy  of  a 
place  in  the  chart.  A  lady,  the  early  friend  of  Campbell  and 
his  family,  indicates  their  residence  at  that  time  as  being  the 
second  door  in  the  stair,  entered  from  the  east  side,  on  the 
north  side  of  the  arch,  the  windows  looking  partly  into  Nicolson 
Square  and  partly  to  the  Potterrow.  The  same  authority  states 
that  much  of  the  poem  was  written  in  the  middle  of  the  night, 
and  from  a  sad  cause.  The  poet's  mother,  it  seems,  was  of  a 
temper  so  extremely  irritable,  that  her  family  had  no  rest  tiU  she 
retired  for  the  night.  It  was  only  at  that  season  that  the  young 
poet  could  command  repose  of  mind  for  his  task. 


;78  TRADITIONS    OF   EDINBURGH. 


LEITH    WALK. 


Up  to  the  period  of  the  building  of  the  North  Bridge,  which 
connects  the  Old  with  the  New  Town  of  Edinburgh,  the 
Easter  Road  was  the  principal  passage  to  Leith.  The  origin  of 
Leith  Walk  was  accidental.  At  the  approach  of  Cromwell  to 
Edinburgh,  immediately  before  the  battle  of  Dunbar,  Leslie, 
the  Covenanting  general,  arranged  the  Scottish  troops  in  a  line, 
the  right  wing  of  which  rested  upon  the  Calton  Hill,  and  the 
left  upon  Leith,  being  designed  for  the  defence  of  these  towns. 
A  battery  was  erected  at  each  extremity,  and  the  line  was  itself 
defended  by  a  trench  and  a  mound,  the  latter  composed  of  the 
earth  dug  from  the  former.  Leslie  himself  took  up  his  head- 
quarters  at  Broughton,  whence  some  of  his  despatches  are  dated. 
When  the  war  was  shifted  to  another  quarter,  this  mound 
became  a  footway  between  the  two  towns.  It  is  thus  described 
in  a  book  published  in  1748:  '  A  very  handsome  gravel  walk, 
twenty  feet  broad,  which  is  kept  in  good  repair  at  the  public 
charge,  and  no  horses  suffered  to  come  upon  it'  When  Provost 
Drummond  built  the  North  Bridge  in  1769,  he  contemplated 
that  it  should  become  an  access  to  Leith,  as  well  as  to  the 
projected  New  Town.  Indeed,  he  seems  to  have  been  obliged 
to  make  it  pass  altogether  under  that  semblance,  in  order  to 
conciliate  the  people;  for,  upon  the  plate  sunk  under  the 
foundations  of  the  bridge,  it  is  solely  described  as  the  opening 
of  a  road  to  Leith.  At  that  time  the  idea  of  a  New  Town  seemed 
so  chimerical,  that  he  scarcely  dared  to  avow  his  patriotic 
intentions.  After  the  opening  of  the  bridge,  the  Wa/k  seems  to 
have  become  used  by  carriages,  but  without  any  regard  being 
paid  to  its  condition,  or  any  system  established  for  keeping  it  in 
repair.  It  consequently  fell  into  a  state  of  disorder,  from  which 
it  was  not  rescued  till  after  the  commencement  of  the  present 
century,  when   a   splendid   causeway  was   formed   at   a  great 


LEITH   WALK.  379 

expense  by  the  city  of  Edinburgh,  and  a  toll  erected  for  its 
payment. 

One  terrible  peculiarity  attended  Leith  Walk  in  its  former 
condition.  It  was  overhung  by  a  gibbet,  from  which  were 
suspended  all  culprits  whose  bodies  at  condemnation  were 
sentenced  to  be  hung  in  chains.  The  place  where  this  gibbet 
stood,  called  the  Gallow  Lee,  is  now  a  good  deal  altered  in 
appearance.  It  was  a  slight  rising-ground  immediately  above 
the  site  of  the  toll,  and  on  the  west  side  of  the  road,  being 
now  partly  enclosed  by  the  precincts  of  a  villa,  where  the 
beautiful  Duchess  of  Gordon  once  lived.  The  greater  part  of 
the  Gallow  Lee  now  exists  in  the  shape  of  mortar  in  the  walls  of 
the  houses  of  the  New  Town.  At  the  time  when  that  elegant 
city  was  built,  the  proprietor  of  this  redoubtable  piece  of  ground, 
finding  it  composed  of  excellent  sand,  sold  it  all  away  to  the 
builders,  to  be  converted  into  mortar,  so  that  it  soon,  from  a 
rising-ground,  became  a  deep  hollow.  An  amusing  anecdote  is 
told  in  connection  with  this  fact.  The  honest  man,  it  seems, 
was  himself  fully  as  much  of  a  sand-bed  as  his  property.  He 
was  a  big,  voluminous  man,  one  of  those  persons  upon  whom 
drink  never  seems  to  have  any  effect.  It  is  related  that  every 
day,  while  the  carts  were  taking  away  his  sand,  he  stood  regularly 
at  the  place  receiving  the  money  in  return ;  and  every  little  sum 
he  got  was  immediately  converted  into  liquor,  and  applied  to 
the  comfort  of  his  inner  man.  A  public-house  was  at  length 
erected  at  the  spot  for  his  particular  behoof;  and  assuredly,  as 
long  as  the  Gallow  Lee  lasted,  this  house  did  not  want  custom. 
Perhaps,  familiar  as  the  reader  may  be  with  stories  of  sots  who 
have  drunk  away  their  last  acre,  he  never  before  heard  of  the 
thing  being  done  in  so  literal  a  manner. 

If  my  reader  be  an  inhabitant  of  Edinburgh  of  any  standing, 
he  must  have  many  delightful  associations  of  Leith  Walk  in 
connection  with  his  childhood.  Of  all  the  streets  in  Edinburgh 
or  Leith,  the  Wal^,  in  former  times,  was  certainly  the  street  for 
boys  and  girls.  From  top  to  bottom,  it  was  a  scene  of  wonders 
and  enjoyments  peculiarly  devoted  to  children.      Besides  the 


360  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

panoramas  and  caravan-shows,  which  were  comparatively  transient 
spectacles,  there  were  several  shows  upon  Leith  Walk,  which 
might  be  considered  as  regular  fixtures,  and  part  of  the  counfry- 
cousiji  sights  of  Edinburgh.  Who  can  forget  the  wax- works  of 
'Mrs  Sands,  widow  of  the  late  G.  Sands,'  which  occupied  a 
laigh  shop  opposite  to  the  present  Haddington  Place,  and  at 
the  door  of  which,  besides  various  parrots,  and  sundry  birds  of 
Paradise,  sat  the  wax  figure  of  a  little  man  in  the  dress  of  a 
French  courtier  of  the  ancieji  regime,  reading  one  eternal  copy  of 
the  Edinburgh  Advertiser  ?  The  very  outsides  of  these  wonder- 
shops  was  an  immense  treat :  all  along  the  Walk,  it  was  one 
delicious  scene  of  squirrels  hung  out  at  doors,  and  monkeys 
dressed  like  soldiers  and  sailors,  with  holes  behind  where  their 
tails  came  through.  Even  the  half-penniless  boy  might  here  get 
his  appetite  for  wonders  to  some  extent  gratified. 

Besides  being  of  old  the  chosen  place  for  shows,  Leith  Walk 
was  the  Rialto  of  objects.  This  word  requires  explanation.  It 
is  applied  by  the  people  of  Scotland  to  persons  who  have  been 
bom  with,  or  overtaken  by,  some  miserable  personal  evil.  From 
one  end  to  the  other,  Leith  Walk  was  garrisoned  by  poor 
creatures  under  these  circumstances,  who,  from  handbarrows, 
wheelbarrows,  or  iron  legs,  if  peradventure  they  possessed  such 
adjuncts,  entreated  the  passengers  for  charity — some  by  voices 
of  song,  some  by  speech,  some  by  driddling,  as  Bums  calls  it, 
on  fiddles,  or  grinding  on  hand-organs — indeed,  a  complete 
continuous  ambuscade  against  the  pocket.  Shows  and  objects 
have  now  alike  vanished  from  Leith  Walk.  It  is  now  a  plain 
street,  composed  of  little  shops  of  the  usual  suburban  appear- 
ance, and  characterised  by  nothing  peculiar,  except,  perhaps,  a 
certain  air  of  pretension,  which  is,  in  some  cases,  abundantly 
ludicrous.  A  great  number,  be  it  observed,  are  mere  tiled 
cottages,  which  contrive,  by  means  of  lofty  fictitious  fronts, 
plastered  and  painted  in  a  showy  manner,  to  make  up  a  good 
appearance  towards  the  street.  If  there  be  a  school  in  one  of 
those  receptacles,  it  is  entitled  an  academy  ;  if  an  artisan's  work- 
shop, however  humble,  it  is  a  manufactory.     Everything  about  it 


LEITH   WALK.  38 1 

is  Still  showy  and  insubstantial ;  it  is  still,  in  some  measure,  the 
type  of  what  it  formerly  was. 

Near  the  bottom  of  Leith  Walk  is  a  row  of  somewhat  old- 
fashioned  houses  bearing  the  name  of  Springfield.  A  large  one, 
the  second  from  the  top,  was,  ninety  years  ago,  the  residence  of 
Mr  M'CuUoch  of  Ardwell,  a  commissioner  of  customs,  and  noted 
as  a  man  of  pleasantry  and  wit.  Here,  in  some  of  the  last 
years  of  his  life,  did  Samuel  Foote  occasionally  appear  as  Mr 
M'Culloch's  guest — Arcades  ambo  et  respondere  parati.  But  the 
history  of  their  intimacy  is  worthy  of  being  particularly  told ; 
so  I  transcribe  it  from  the  recollection  of  a  gentleman  whose 
advanced  age  and  family  connections  could  alone  have  made  us 
faithfully  acquainted  with  circumstances  so  remote  from  our 
time. 

In  the  winter  of  1775-6  [more  probably  that  of  1774-5],  Mr 
M'Culloch  visited  his  countiy  mansion  in  the  stewartry  of 
Kirkcudbright,  in  company  with  a  friend  named  Mouat,  in  order 
to  be  present  at  an  election.  Mr  M'Culloch  was  a  man  of  joyous 
temperament  and  a  good  deal  of  wit,  and  used  to  amuse  his 
friends  by  spouting  half-random  verses.  He  and  his  friend 
spent  a  week  or  two  very  pleasantly  in  the  country,  and  then 
set  out  on  their  return  to  Leith  ;  Mr  M'Culloch  carrying  with 
him  his  infant  son  David,  familiarly  called  Wee  Davie,  for  the 
purpose  of  commencing  his  education  in  Edinburgh.  To  pursue 
the  narrative  of  my  correspondent :  '  The  two  travellers  got  on 
pretty  well  as  far  as  Dumfries ;  but  it  was  with  difficulty,  occa- 
sioned by  a  snow-storm,  that  they  reached  Moffat,  where  they 
tarried  for  the  night. 

'  Early  in  a  January  morning,  the  snow  having  fallen  heavily 
during  the  preceding  night,  they  set  off  in  a  post-chaise  and  four 
horses  to  proceed  on  their  perilous  journey.  Two  gentlemen 
in  their  own  carriage  left  the  King's  Arms  Inn  (then  kept  by 
James  Little)  at  the  same  time.  With  difficulty  the  first  pair  of 
travellers  reached  the  top  of  Erickstane,  but  farther  they  could 
not  go.  The  parties  came  out  of  their  carriages,  and,  aided  by 
their  postilions,  they  held  a  consultation  as  to  the  prudence  of 


382  TRADITIONS   OF  EDINBURGH. 

attempting  to  proceed  down  the  vale  of  Tweed.  This  was 
considered  as  a  vain  and  dangerous  attempt,  and  it  was  therefore 
determined  on  to  return  to  Moffat.  The  turning  of  the  carriages 
having  become  a  dangerous  undertaking,  Wee  Davie  had  to  be 
taken  out  of  the  chaise  and  laid  on  the  snow,  wrapped  in  a 
blanket,  until  the  business  was  accomplished.  The  parties  then 
went  back  to  Moffat,  arriving  there  between  nine  and  ten  in  the 
morning.  Mr  M'CuUoch  and  his  friend  then  learned  that  of 
the  two  strangers  who  had  left  the  inn  at  the  same  time,  and 
had  since  returned,  one  was  the  celebrated  Foote,  and  the  other 
either  Ross  or  Souter,  but  which  of  the  two  favourite  sons  of 
Thalia  I  cannot  remember  at  this  distant  period  of  time.  Let 
it  be  kept  in  mind  that  Foote  had  lost  a  leg,  and  walked  with 
difficulty. 

'Immediately  on  returning,  Foote  had  entered  the  inn,  not 
in  good-humour,  to  order  breakfast.  His  carriage  stood  opposite 
the  inn  door,  in  order  to  get  the  luggage  taken  off.  While  this 
was  going  on,  a  paper  wa,s  placarded  on  one  of  the  panels.  The 
wit  came  out  to  see  how  all  matters  were  going  on,  when, 
observing  the  paper,  he  in  ^vrath  exclaimed :  "  What  rascal  has 
been  placarding  his  ribaldry  on  my  carriage?"  He  had  patience, 
however,  to  pause  and  read  the  following  lines : 

"  While  Boreas  his  flaky  storm  did  guide, 

Deep  covering  every  hill,  o'er  Tweed  and  Clyde, 
,    The  north-wind  god  spied  travellers  seeking  way ; 
Sternly  he  cried  :  '  Retrace  your  steps,  I  say  j 
Let  not  07iefoot,  'tis  my  behest,  profane 
The  sacred  snows  which  lie  on  Erickstane.' " 

The  countenance  of  our  wit  now  brightened,  as  he  called  out, 
with  an  exclamation  of  surprise :  "  I  should  like  to  know  the 
fellow  who  wrote  that ;  for  be  he  who  he  may,  he 's  no  mean 
hand  at  an  epigram."  Mrs  Little,  the  good  but  eccentric  land- 
lady, now  stepped  forward  and  spoke  thus :  "  Trouth,  Maister 
Fut,  it 's  mair  than  likely  that  it  was  our^r/m'  Maister  M'CuUoch 
of  Ardwell  that  did  it ;  it 's  weel  kent  that  he 's  a  poyet  j  he 's  a 
guid  eneugh  sort  o'  man,  but  he  never  comes  here  without 


LEITH   WALK.  383 

poyet-teasing  mysel'  or  the  guidman,  or  some  ane  or  other  about 
the  house.  It  wud  be  weel  dune  if  ye  wud  speak  to  him." 
Ardwell  now  came  forward,  muttering  some  sort  of  apology, 
which  Foote  instantly  stopped  by  saying:  "My  dear  sir,  an 
apology  is  not  necessary ;  I  am  fair  game  for  every  one,  for  I 
take  any  one  for  game  when  it  suits  me.  You  and  I  must 
become  acquainted,  for  I  find  that  we  are  brother-poets,  and 
that  we  were  this  morning  companions  in  misfortune  on  'the 
sacred  snows  of  Erickstane.'"  Thus  began  an  intimacy  which 
the  sequel  will  shew  turned  out  to  be  a  lasting  one.  The  two 
parties  now  joined  at  the  breakfast-table,  as  they  did  at  every 
other  meal  for  the  next  twenty  days. 

'  Foote  remained  quiet  for  a  few  hours  after  breakfast,  until  he 
had  beat  about  for  game,  as  he  termed  it,  and  he  first  fixed  on 
worthy  Mrs  Little,  his  hostess.  By  some  occult  means  he  had 
managed  to  get  hold  of  some  of  the  old  lady's  habiHments, 
particularly  a  favourite  night-cap — provincially,  a  mutch.  After 
attiring  himself  h  la  Mrs  Little,  he  went  into  the  kitchen  and 
through  the  house,  mimicking  the  garrulous  landlady  so  very 
exactly  in  giving  orders,  scolding,  &c.  that  no  servant  doubted 
as  to  its  being  the  mistress  in  propria  persona.  This  kind  of 
amusement  went  on  for  several  days  for  the  benefit  of  the 
people  in  Mofiat.  By  and  by,  the  snow  allowed  the  united 
parties  to  advance  as  far  as  the  Crook,  upon, Tweed,  and  here 
they  were  again  storm-stayed  for  ten  days.  Nevertheless,  Foote 
and  his  companion,  who  was  well  qualified  to  support  him, 
never  for  a  moment  flagged  in  creating  merriment,  or  affording 
the  party  amusement  of  some  sort.  The  snow  cleared  away  at 
last,  so  as  to  enable  the  travellers  to  reach  Edinburgh,  and  there 
to  end  their  journey.  The  intimacy  of  Foote  and  Ardwell  did 
not  end  here,  but  continued  until  the  death  of  Foote. 

'  After  this  period,  Foote  several  times  visited  Scotland :  he 
always  in  his  writings  shewed  himself  partial  to  Scotland  and  to 
the  Scotch.  On  every  visit  which  he  afterwards  made  to  the 
northern  metropolis,  he  set  apart  a  night  or  two  for  a  social 
meeting  with   his   friend  Ardwell,  whose   family  lived   in  the 


384  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

second  house  from  the  head  of  that  pretty  row  of  houses  more 
than  half-way  down  Leith  Walk,  still  called  Springfield.  In  the 
parlour,  on  the  right-hand  side  in  entering  that  house,  the 
largest  of  the  row,  Foote,  the  celebrated  wit  of  the  day,  has 
frequently  been  associated  with  many  of  the  Edinburgh  and 
Leith  worthies,  when  and  where  he  was  wont  to  keep  the  table 
in  a  roar. 

'The  biography  of  Foote  is  well  known.  However,  I  may 
add  that  Mr  Mouat  and  Mr  M'Culloch  died  much  lamented  in 
the  year  1793.  David  M'Culloch  (Wee  Davie)  died  in  the 
year  1824,  at  Cheltenham,  much  regretted.  For  many  years  he 
had  resided  in  India.  In  consequence  of  family  connection,  he 
became  a  familiar  visitor  at  Abbotsford,  and  a  favourite  acquaint- 
ance of  Sir  Walter  Scott.*  Mr  Lockhart  tells  us  that,  next  to 
Tom  Moore,  Sir  Walter  thought  him  the  finest  warbler  he  had 
ever  heard.  He  was  certainly  an  exquisitely  fine  singer  of 
Scotch  songs.  Sir  Walter  Scott  never  heard  him  sing  until  he 
was  far  advanced  in  life,  or  until  his  voice  had  given  way  to  a 
long  residence  in  India.  Mr  Lockhart  also  tells  us  that  David 
M'Culloch  in  his  youth  was  an  intimate  and  favourite  com- 
panion of  Burns,  and  that  the  poet  hardly  ventured  to  publish 
many  of  his  songs  until  he  heard  them  sung  by  his  friend.  I 
will  only  add,  that  the  writer  of  this  has  more  than  once  heard 
Burns  say  that  he  never  fully  knew  the  beauty  of  his  songs  until 
he  heard  them  sung  by  David  M'Culloch.' 


[GABRIEL'S    ROAD. 

Previous  to  1767,  the  eye  of  a  person  perched  in  a  favourable 
situation  in  the  Old  Town,  surveyed  the  whole  ground  on  which 
the  New  Town  was  afterwards  built.     Immediately  beyond  the 

*  Sir  Walter's  brother  Thomas  was  married  to  a  sister  of  Mr  M'Culloch. 


Gabriel's  road.  385 

North  Loch  was  a  range  of  grass  fields,  called  Bearford's  Parks, 
from  the  name  of  the  proprietor,  Hepburn  of  Bearford  in  East 
Lothian.  Bounding  these  on  the  north,  in  the  line  of  the 
subsequent  Princes  Street,  was  a  road  enclosed  by  two  dry- 
stone  walls,  thence  called  the  Lang  Dykes ;  it  was  the  line  by 
which  the  Viscount  Dundee  rode  with  his  small  troop  of 
adherents,  when  he  had  ascertained  that  the  Convention  was 
determined  to  settle  the  crown  upon  the  Prince  of  Orange,  and 
he  saw  that  the  only  duty  that  remained  for  him  was  to  raise  the 
Highland  clans  for  King  James.  The  main  mass  of  ground, 
originally  rough  with  whins  and  broom,  but  latterly  forming 
what  was  called  Wood's  Farm,  was  crossed  obliquely  by  a  road 
extending  between  Silvermills,  a  rural  hamlet  on  the  mill- 
course  of  the  Leith,  and  the  passage  into  the  Old  Toum 
obtained  by  the  dam  of  the  North  Loch  at  the  bottom  of 
Halkerston's  Wynd.  There  are  still  some  traces  of  this  road. 
You  see  it  leave  Silvermills  behind  West  Cumberland  Street. 
Behind  Duke  Street,  on  the  west  side,  the  boundary-wall  of  the 
Queen  Street  Garden  is  oblique  in  consequence  of  its  having 
passed  that  way.  Finally,  it  terminates  in  a  short  oblique 
passage  behind  the  Register  House,  wherein  stood  till  lately 
a  tall  building  containing  a  famous  house  of  resort,  Ambrose's 
Tavern.  This  short  passage  bore  the  name  of  Gabriel's  Road, 
and  it  was  supposed  to  do  so  in  connection  with  a  remarkable 
murder,  of  which  it  was  the  scene. 

The  murderer  in  the  case  was  in  truth  a  man  named  Robert 
Irvine.  He  was  tutor  to  two  boys,  sons  of  Mr  Gordon  of  Ellon. 
In  consequence  of  the  children  having  reported  some  liberties 
they  saw  him  take  with  their  mother's  maid,  he  conceived  the 
horrible  design  of  murdering  them,  and  did  so  one  day  as  he 
was  leading  .them  for  a  walk  along  the  rough  ground  where  the 
New  Town  is  now  situated.  The  frightful  transaction  was 
beheld  from  the  Castle-hill ;  he  was  pursued,  taken,  and  next 
day  but  one  hanged  by  the  baron  of  Broughton,  after  having 
his  hands  hacked  off  by  the  knife  with  which  he  had  committed 
the  deed.     The  date  of  this  off-hand  execution  was  30th  April 


386  TRADITIONS   OF   EDINBURGH. 

17 1 7.  Both  the  date  and  the  murderer's  name  have  several 
times  been  misstated.*  "      ' 

Adjacent  to  this  road,  about  the  spot  now  occupied  by  the 
Royal  Bank,  stood  a  small  groups  of  houses  called  Mutrie's 
Hill,  some  of  which  professed  to  furnish  curds  and  cream  and 
fruits  in  their  seasons,  and  were  on .  these  accounts  resorted  to 
by  citizens  and  their  families  on  summer  evenings.  One  in 
particular  bore  the  name  of  '  Peace  and  Plenty.' 

The  village  of  Silvermills,  for  the  sake  of  which,  as  an  access 
to  the  city,  Gabriel's  Road  existed,  still  maintains  its  place 
amidst  the  streets  and  crescents  of  the  New  Town.  It  contains 
a  few  houses  of  a  superior  cast ;  but  it  is  a  place  sadly  in  want 
of  the  sacer  vates.  No  notice  has  ever  been  taken  of  it  in  any 
of  the  books  regarding  Edinburgh,  nor  has  any  attempt  ever 
been  made  to  account  for  its  somewhat  piquant  name.  I  shall 
endeavour  to  do  so. 

In  1607,  silver  was  found  in  considerable  abundance  at 
Hilderstone  in  Linlithgowshire,  on  the  property  of  the  gentle- 
man who  figures  in  another  part  of  this  volume  as  Tam  o'  the 
Cowgate.  Thirty-eight  barrels  of  ore  were  sent  to  the  Mint  in 
the  Tower  of  London  to  be  tried,  and  were  found  to  give  about 
twenty-four  ounces  of  silver  for  every  hundredweight  Expert 
persons  were  placed  upon  the  mine,  and  mills  were  erected  on 
the  Water  of  Leith  for  the  melting  and  fining  of  the  ore.  The 
sagacious  owner  gave  the  mine  the  name  of  God^s  blessing.  By 
and  by  the  king  heard  of  it,  and  thinking  it  improper  that  any 
such  fountain  of  wealth  should  belong  to  a  private  person, 
purchased  God's  blessing  for  ;^5ooo,  that  it  might  be  worked 
upon  a  larger  scale  for  the  benefit  of  the  public.  But  somehow, 
from  tlie  time  it  left  the  hands  of  the  original  owner,  God's  blessing 
ceased  to  be  anything  like  so  fertile  as  it  had  been,  and  in  time 
the  king  withdrew  from  the  enterprise  a  great  loser.  The  Silver- 
mills  I  conceive  to  have  been  a  part  of  the  abandoned  plant. +] 

*  In  Mr  Lockhart's  clever  book,  Peter's  Letters  to  his  Kinsfolk,  the  murderer  is  called 
Gabriel.  A  work  called  Celebrated  Trials  (6  vols.  1825)  gives  an  erroneous  account  of  the 
murder,  styling  the  murderer  as  the  Rev.  Thomas  Hunter. 

t  See  Domestic  Annals  cif  Scotland,  i,  407. 


INDEX. 


PAGE 

Aberuchil,  Campbell  of,  his  family 85 

Acheson  of  Gosford, "house  of,  in  Canon- 
gate  344 

Advertiser,  Edinburgh,  started 63 

Alison  Square,  its  origin 376 

Alva,  Lord  Justice-clerk 223 

Anderson,  Dr,  inventor  of  pills 38 

,  Samuel,  anecdote  of. r.  ..325 

Arnot,  Hugo,  14  ; '  anecdotes  of 22 

Asse7!ibly,  The,  a  play  by  Pitcaim 331 

Assembly-room,  old,  in  West  Bow 56 

Aytouns    of    Inchdairnie    in    Bishop's 
Land 292 

Baird,  Sir  David,  anecdote  of 30 

Balcarres,  Countess  of,  her  tea-drink- 

ings 299,  300 

Balfour,  James,  anecdotes  of. 156-158 

,  Sir  James,  letter  of 336 

Bankton  House,  East  Lothian 40 

Bannatyne,  Lord,  his  reminiscences  in 

1832 20,  336 

Begbie  tragedy 301 

Bellamy,  Mrs 365-36S 

Bethune,    Archbishop,     his     house     in 

Blackfriars  Wynd 249,  264 

Bethune,  Cardinal 250 

Bickers,  street-fights  of  boys 207-210 

Bishop's  Land,  the,  its  inhabitants 291 

Blackfriars  Wynd 249 

Blue-gowns,  their  annual  assembly 116 

Boar  Club 167 

Boarding-schools  of  last  century 251 

Booths  around  St  Giles's  Church 122 

Boswell,  James,  his  residence 73 

Burke,   Ned,  a   chairman,   engaged  in 

the  escape  of  Prince  Charles  Edward.. 195 

Bothwell,  Anne,  her  Lines in 

,  Commendator,  his  house iii 

Bothwell  Bridge  prisoners 311 

'  Bowed  Joseph,'  a  general  of  mobs.. 202-207 

Bowhead  and  its  'saints' 38,  41 

Brodie,  WiUiam,  his  guilt  and  execution.  105 

Bryce,  his  small  shop 115 

Buccleuch,  Duchess  of. 345 

Buchanan,  George,  his  skull 310,  n. 

Burning,  a,  strange  tale  of. 319 

Bums,  Robert,  at  '  Crochallan' 181 


PAGE 

Caddies,  a  set  of  street-messengers 193 

Campbell,   Mungo,    his    suicide    when 

under  sentence 104. 

Campbell,  Thomas,  poet. .' 377 

of  Laguine,  a  distracted  liti- 
gant  149 

Canary,  a  Jacobite 41 

Canongate,  the,  once  a  residence  of  the 

great 316 

Cant's  Close,  curious  old  house  in 242 

Cape  Club,  the 164 

Castle-hill,  a  favourite  promenade 21 

Chairmen  (sedan-carriers) 194 

Changes  of  the  last  hundred  years 11 

Chapman,    Walter,    his    tenement    in 

Cowgate 122 

Charles  I.  plays  golf  on  Leith  Links  . . .  .339 

Charteris,  Colonel,  his  funeral 346 

Chiesly  of  Dairy 87 

Citadel  of  Leith,  inhabitants  in  1745..  29,  «. 
Clattering  of  tinsmiths  in  West  Bow. ...  55 

Claudero,  a  low  poet 348 

Cleanse    the   Caiisezuay,   a   conflict  in 

Edinburgh 264 

Clubs,  convivial 165-173 

Coalstoun,  Lord,  and  his  wig no 

Cockbum,  Mrs,  author  of  Flowers  of 

the  Forest 72 

College  Wynd 265 

Concerts,  company  at 275 

Conviviaha 152-173 

Court,  the  Dirt 128 

Court  of  Sessioti  Garland,  a  burlesque 

poem 139 

Cowgate,  the 263-272 

Craig,   James,   his   plan   of   the  New 

Town 17 

Creech's  shop 117 

'  Crochallan  Corps,'  a  convivial  society. .  181 
Cromwell's    guard -house,     113;      his 

judges,  135;  residence 328 

Cross,  the 191-193 

CuUen,  Robert,  eminently  a  mimic 285 

Danish  lords  entertained 283 

Damley,  scene  of  his  murder. 280 

'  Deid  Chack,'  the,  a  custom  after 
executions 127 


388 


INDEX. 


PAGE 

Dick,   Lady   Anne,   her    eccentricities 

and  verses 246-248 

Dick,  Sir  William,  his  enormous  riches.  .  89 

Donacha  Bhan,  a  Highland  poet 198 

Donaldson,  Alexander,  bookseller 62 

Douglas,  Gavin,  the  poet,  his  house 263 

Douglas's  tavern 179 

Dowie's  tavern 153,  183 

Dresses,  female,  of  last  century 218 

Drummond,    Bishop    Abernethy,    epi- 
gram on 251 

Dundas  of  Arniston,  anecdote  of. 155 

Eglintoune,  Countess  of 210-218 

Elliot,  Jeanie t6 

Excise-office  in  Cowgate 270 

Executioners  of  Edinburgh 65 

Fergusson,  the  plotter,  took  refuge  in 

the  OldTolbooth 102 

Fergusson,    Walter,    writer,    digs    for 

water  in  James's  Square 353 

Flockhart's,  Lucky,  in  the  Potterrow...  .185 

Foote,  Samuel,  anecdote  of. 382-384 

Fore-stairs,  uses  of 115 

Fountainhall,  Lord,  anecdote  of 74 

Gabriel's  Road 3S4 

Gallows-stone  in  Grassmarket 64 

Gardenstone,  Lord 147 

Gardiner,  Colonel,  his  oratory 40 

Ged,  Dougal,  of  Town-guard 254,  255 

,  Misses,  their  boarding-school 254 

Geddes,  Jenny,  her  stool 119 

Giornovicki,  musician 278 

Glenlee,  Lord 16 

Glenorchy,  Lady 226 

Goldsmith's     account     of     a     dancing 

assembly  in  Edinburgh  in  1753 58 

Goldsmiths  in  Parliament  Square 124 

Gordon,  Jane,  Duchess  of. 298 

family,    residences    in    Edin- 
burgh  29,  336 

Gourlay,  Robert,  remarkable  house  of  . .  83 

Grange,  Lady,  story  of. 231-242 

Greyfriars  Churchyard 310 

Hailes,  Lord  (Sir  D.  Dalrymple)..  ..140-145 

Ha's,  Jenny,  tavern 157,  357 

Hay,  a  young  criminal,  singular  escape.  107 

Heckler,  the,  a  lunatic  litigant 151 

Hell-fire  Club 1 70 

Henderson,  Alexander,  his  tombstone. .  .311 

Heriot,  George,  his  shop 125 

'He  that   tholes  overcomes,'  inscribed 

on  a  house 60 

High  School,  barring  out 89 

Holstein,  Duke  of,  entertained,  1598.. ..  90 
Hope,  Sir  Tliomas,  king's  advocate  to 

Charles  1 84-87 

'  Horn  Order ' 173 

Horse  Wynd,  Earl  of  Galloway's  house 

in  the 266 

Hume,  David 69-73 

Hyndford's  Close 287,  297 

Irving,  Mrs,  anecdote  of. 39 


PAGH 

James  II.  plays  golf  on  Lelth  Links 340 

James's  Court 68 

Jeddart  staff  possessed  by  each  citizen..  114 

Johnston  of  Westerhall 49 

Justice  in  bygone  times 132 

Kames,  Lord,  144  ;  his  house 322 

Kerr,  goldsmith 12 

and  Dempster,  goldsmiths 123 

Kinnaird,  Miss,  having  second-sight.22g,  n, 

Knox,  John,  his  manse 293 

Krames,  the 116 

Lady's  Steps,  the,  payments  made  at.  ...117 

Leith  Walk 378 

Little  of  Libberton,  his  hou.se 89 

Lockhart,  President,  assassination  of....  88 

of  Covington 143 

Lorimer,  the,  a  deceased  trade 255 

Lothian,  Marchioness  of,  anecdote  of. ...342 

Hut 341 

Loughborough,   Chancellor,   his  house 

in  Mint  Close 286,  287 

Lovat,  Lady,  her  house,  and  anecdotes 

of 256-262 

Lovat,  Lord 224,  256,  257 

Luckenbooths,  some  memories  of  the log 

M'Culloch  of  Ardwell,  residence  of. 381 

Macfarlane,  Mrs,  her  story 313 

Mackenzie,  Henry. 17 

,  Sir  George,  his  house..  .245,  246 

M'Lehose,  Mrs,  house  of  (Clarinda  of 

Bums) ;•.■•••. 377 

Macmoran,  Bailie,  killed Sg 

Macrae,  Captain,  tragical  story  of 368 

Magdalen  Chapel,  Cowgate 271,  n. 

JMally  Lee,  a  ballad 222 

Mar,  Countess  of,  her  death 87 

Marionville,  villa  of,  theatricals  at 368 

Marlin's  Wynd,  story  of. 228 

Mary  de  Guise,  her  house  in  Edinburgh.  32 
Maxwell,  Lady,  of  Monreith,  her  house.2'37 
Melrose,   Abbot   of,   his    '  lodging '    in 

Edinburgh 244 

Melville,  Henry,  Viscount 141,  «. 

Middlemass's  tavern j6z 

Mint,  the 282 

Mirror,  magic,  story  of  the 77 

Mobs  of  Edinburgh; 200 

Monboddo,  Lord 147 

Montrose,  Marquis  of,  how  treated  by 

the  Argyll  family 319 

^loray  House,  Canongate 326 -332 

Morocco's  Land,  legend  of. 32 1 

Morton,    Regent,    his    execution,    84 ; 

anecdote  of. 133 

Murder,  extraordinary 383 

Murray,  J.  A.,  erects  a  statue  to  Allan 

Ramsay 23 

Murray,  Miss  Nicky,  ball  directress. 288-291 
,  Regent,  his  tomb 120 

Nairn,  Catherine,  her  tale  of  guilt,  and 

escape  from  justice 103 

Negro  servants 82,  «. 


INDEX. 


389 


PAGE 

New  Town,  first  house  in 18 

Nicol,  Andrew,   claimant  at  law  of  a 

midden-stead 132 

Niddry's  Wynd,  houses  in 229 

North  Loch,  memorials  of  the 123-131 

Ogilvie,  Hon.  Mrs,  her  boarding-school.  253 

Old  Bank  Close 82 

Oratories,    a  feature    in    houses    of   a 

certain  era 40 

Oyster  cellars 160 

Pages,  keeping  of. 347 

Palmerston,   Lord,   a  pupil  of  Dugald 

Stewart  in  Edinburgh 342 

Panmure  House,  Canongate 337 

Parliament  Close 121 

Council 128 

Parliament  House 131 

■ Worthies 148-152 

Paterson,  John,  a  golfing  shoemaker. . .  .339 

Peat,  a,  or  Pate 136 

Pitcairn,  Dr,  his  account  of  Edinburgh 

taverns,  174;  his  habits 176 

Poker  Club,  the 178 

Porteous  Riot 65 

Portobello,  origin  of  village  of. 350,  91.. 

Post-office,  old  arrangements  of. 143 

Prentice,  Henry,  introducer  of  the  field- 
culture  of  potatoes 343 

Press,  printing,  used  in  rebel  army 85 

Primrose,  Viscount,  a  profligate 76 

Queensberry,  Catherine,  Duchess  of. . .  .357 
,  second  Duke  of,  strange 

story  of. ._ 354 

Queensberry,  third  Duke  of,  and  poet 

Gay 356 

Queensberry  House 353 

Ramsay,  A.,  the  painter 26,  28 

,     Allan,     the    poet,    14,    24  ; 

defence  of  the  assembly 57 

Ramsay,  Sir  George,  of  BamfF,  killed 

in  a  duel ^ 374 

Ramsay's  Stables. 189 

Renton,  Eleonora,  of  Lamerton 324 

Riddel's  Close,  Lawnmarket 89 

Risp,  or  pin,  on  doors 226 

Romieu,  Paul,  a  noted  watchmaker 59 

Rope  used  for  Porteous,  bought 60 

Ross  House,  George  Square 229 

'  Saving  the  ladies ' 162,  274 

Scott,  Sir  Walter,  his  birthplace 265 

Sellar,  Mrs,  a  milliner,  anecdote  of....  ...342 

Shut-up  houses  in  Old  Town 47 

Silvermills,  village  of 386 

Sinclair,  Mrs  Effie,  her  boarding-school.. 252 
Smith,   Adam,   residence   of,   in   Edin- 
burgh   337 


PAGE 

Smollett,  visit  to  Edinburgh 323 

Somerville,  Braid  Hugh,  a  street-fight 

in  1640 51 

Speaking  house,  the 332 

St    Cecilia's    Hall,   Cowgate,    reminis- 
cences of. 272-279 

St  David  Street,  a  joke  about 71 

St  Giles,  memoranda  of  the  '  Old  Kirk ' 

of 118 

St  John  Street 322 

Stabilini,   a    musician,    his   opinion    of 

private  concerts 279 

Stair,  Countess  of,  story  of. 76 

,  the  Earl  of,  a  love  ambuscade ....  80 

Stewart,  provost  in  1745,  his  house 61 

• ,  Sir  William,  killed  in  Black- 
friars  Wynd 51 

Sutherland,  Earl  and  Countess  of 224 

Swift,  his  connection  with  the  Gosford 

family  in  Ireland 33s 

Swine  roaming  in  the  streets iis 

Tarn    o'    the    Cowgate    (first    Earl   of 

Haddington) 267 

Taverns  of  old  times 174-igi 

Templars'  Lands  in  Grassmarket 64 

Tennis  Court 36a 

Theatre  in  Canongate 365 

Theatricals,  early,  in  Edinburgh 363 

Thomson,  G.,  his  account  of  music  in 

Edinburgh  in  last  century 272 

Threipland,      Sir     Stuart,      house     in 

Bishop's  Land 292 

Tinklarian  doctor   (William  Mitchell), 

a  prating  fanatic 53 

Tolbooth,   Old,   description  and  anec- 
dotes of 95-109 

Tolbooth  Whigs,  the 127 

Town-guard,  the 196-200 

Traquair,  ladies  of. 308 

Tulzies  (street-fights) 49 

Tweeddale,  Marquis  of,  house  of. 301 

Uduart's  house  in  Niddry's  Wynd 229 

Union,  the,  legends  of. 330 

Wallace,  Lady .299 

Webster,  Dr  Alexander,  'of  convivial 

memory' 30,  127 

Weir,  Major 42 

Wemyss,  Earl  of,  lives  in  Parliament 

Close 123 

Wemyss,  Earl  of,  residence  of 326 

West  Bow 36-68 

White  Horse  Inn 189-191 

■ Stables 187 

Williamson,  Peter 126 

of  Cardrona 182 

Wooden-fronted  houses,  account  of. 293 


Edinburgh  :  Printed  by  W.  and  R.  Chambers. 


w^ 


-^